A Truth Now Known
by time2read
Summary: The orcs came not from thin air but from the light. Corrupted twisted. A truth is hidden. Thranduil had not one son but two. Legolas is dragged off by the orcs and considered dead with his father fast fading it is up to those who know the secret to bring it to light. (Follows cannon takes place 180 years before the Hobbit.) Features Elrohir, Elladan,Tauriel, Mirkwood and others.
1. Elven Definitions

**Authors Note**

Hey guys! Before there was fanfiction there was me writing my own stuff and after fanfiction I'm sure there will be more of my own stuff. When authors on FF spend their time to post stories they give up time which they could be using to vid game or hang out with friends. They write because they love to and for fun they don't get paid and many who read their work are too damn lazy to say thanks. When you read any fic at all and you like it leave reviews they make the people who write the stuff feel good about themselves. If you don't like what you read don't flame give constructive criticism. Alrighty now that that's out of the way below is a list of elven words that come up in the story, they will be updated if I add more as I add more chapters. Well that's it for now. Enjoy the fic and don't forget to tell me how much you love it!

**Elven Word Definitions**

_Melamin-my love_

_Adar-Father_

_Naneth- Mother_

_Rima- Run_

_Nurta- Hide_

_Diola lle-Thank you_

_Saes-Please_

_Mellon nin- My friend_

_Mae govannen-Well met_

_Muindor-brother_

_Gwethil-Sister_

_Elleth- elven maid _

_Umai- Giant spiders which infested certain parts of the forest of Mirkwood. _

_Sortie- Ten to Fifteen Soldiers _

_Score- Twenty soldiers_

_Astalder- Valiant one, as elves value life over death those who preserve life are well respected and loved_

_Tulien- means coming in elvish, also the name I chose for Tauriel's brother_

_Sani- Game similar to checkers and marble flicking. You have to knock out only the piece you are allowed to eat or your piece dies. Not much of a challenge for elves with their eyesight._


	2. Prologue Part 1

_"__Oh, what a tangled web we weave...when first we practice to deceive." ― Walter Scott_

* * *

Lie. Sometimes she wondered if that was all she was capable off. Standing here before the King of Mirkwood in the moonlight. It was a warm night with a cool breeze. On nights like these standing under a canopy in the royal gardens it was easy to forget the foul darkness, the orcs, the shadows the rings. A white rose lay outstretched in Thranduil's hand its petals in late blossom shifted in the wind. His eyes found hers once more and he repeated his question perhaps realizing how distracted she had become by the proposal.

"Will, will you bind to me for life?" The words are once more hesitant. Not like the King Thranduil who is stern and proud. Not like the father Thranduil who is caring and occasionally frustrated with his son Legolas's near death encounters and heroic antics. This is a different Thranduil a young hesitant Thranduil. At this moment it is hard to say that he has lived for over five thousand years. Not that age matters she is far, far older. What matters is that he does not know, can't know. She has long raged at Elrond's advice. She had asked why he had sent her to Mirkwood, asked why it was that she had no control over her heart when it came to Thranduil. He had said nothing. Only warned her to accept the proposal.

He had, had a vision a vision he told her little of only that she should accept the offer. She was tempted to crush the rose, throw it at Thranduil's face, or better yet tell him everything. But she had sworn on Valor's name long ago, sworn to secrecy. Only Elrond knew and only because he had been there when Galadriel had seen the fall in her mirror. Even Celeborn had not been told. Her hand hesitated as it hovered over the blossom. She could see the waver of uncertainty in Thranduil's keen eyes.

"I will." Her voice was weak but firm. Her response lit the king's face with a wan smile.

"There is not much time for celebration I am sorry but I, we can-"

"I can make do with what little we have." She cut him off laughing as he trailed off his face a mask of apology and denial. Valor! How could he be so vulnerable and fragile and yet so insufferably stuck up and arrogant at times. The laughter caught on and soon they were both laughing her tinkling voice and his deeper one. Still somewhat course from lack of use. When was the last the last time she had heard him laugh?

The approach of an elf ended the carefree moment. The Kings face instantly transformed into a mask concern as he noted the parchment Galion was carrying.

"Is it from him?"

"Ay my King."

A sigh escaped Thranduil. "What does he say?"

Galion hesitated but relented at a pointed look from the king. "He is extending his stay in Rivendell he says Elrond is only too happy to host him and he wished to spend more time with Elrohir and Elladan.

"Ai Valor!" The King muttered.

"Shall you write back my king?"

"No, No you may go."

Pity stirred in Queen Ingwe's heart as she looked upon the exchange. "The fault is mine Thranduil. It is for me he is distancing himself."

"The fault is not yours melamin . He is still burdened by the events of last spring. The darkness is growing it waits for no one. And yet it is better that he is there and not here. I will rest easier at night knowing he is in safe hands."

"The darkness will one day pass." Her eyes found Thranduil's alight with fierce hope.

"I pray you are right."

"You too are burdened by what occurred."

Thranduil rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly as she furiously plucked at a petal from the rose. "You spoke to the orcs."

"I knew not what I said!"

"They listened."

"Only barely! Thranduil I knew not what possessed me!"

"You spoke in their language."

"We had no other choice I saw them speak in Galadriel's mirror the mirror told me what I should say! Or do you not trust her as well?" The story was well rehearsed. The lie had worked every time and Galadriel agreed to back her claim. The entire scenario was an accident. They were overrun. Losing, but for a moment she saw not orcs but her loyal servants. Men, women she knew. She told them to go, to leave. And they heard her, just barely. If they hadn't she wouldn't be here now. Neither would Legolas nor would many elves.

"I trust both you and her." Thranduil whispered in her ear, his long thin fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His cool blue eyes met her darker blue as he caressed her face. Something in his eyes flickered and for a moment as they pierced through her illusion unconsciously reading her true age. He recoiled. The intimate moment was suddenly over. She could see Thranduil himself slightly confused at his reaction.

"I am sorry but matters of state do not wait." He smile at her wanly and left her standing in the gardens. The wind grew cold as she stared upon the distant moon. If only she did not feel so alone right now she could almost be happy. She was after all going to marry the man she loved.

* * *

_melamin-my love_

_Next chapter will be up tomorrow or the day after. Read and Review!_


	3. Prologue Part 2

_"__Lies, they are like darkness in the soul. They eat away what is good and leave only destruction behind." – Cassandra Clare_

* * *

It was dark. The castle was plunged in silence. Whoever heard elves and a castle would surely laugh. But there had been a time when there were such elves. Proud elves, elves that were as strong as they were agile. The Vanyar, the blessed cursed elves. The elves that were first created by Ilúvatar. And the darkness took them first as they had been first in the light. A mockery to the creator. Or perhaps a mockery to those who believed in one as their prayers went to naught. Slowly the darkness had come. Slowly it ate away at the souls of her people.

She was young then Ingwe, named after the might her people. The night frightened her as did the storm. In the night she could hear her Adar and Naneth arguing in hushed voices.

"Please my love we must consider there help!"

"They will not come; you think they know not of our troubles?" Her Naneth's voice was sharp, accusing.

"You are being arrogant!"

"I am being reasonable. If the plight was theirs I would not go!"

"Dearest!" The voices escalated but the thunder was louder. She knocked hesitantly on the door the voices did not stop. Sighing she made her way back to her chambers. They shouldn't argue. It was wrong. For years now something was off about her Naneth. She was colder more distant. And the guards and maids were cooler as well. They barely sang. She was nearing ninety but she was no child.

Suddenly the air felt cold. Like blood had been spilled. Her eyes widened as her nose caught more of the scent. She threw on her riding livery and pulled two knives from their holders. Slowly she eased open the door hearing shrieks outside she flung it open only to be met with a horror beyond recognition. They were all mewling on the ground. All of them dark twisted sick.

"Come quick my princess!" A hand grabbed hers and pulled her from her shock.

"Whats going on?"

Her friend shook her head as they both ran through the winding passages. Much was a blur melded and forgotten twisted in dream. The most prominent moment was her friend suddenly gasping falling to her knees. She pulled but her friend shoved her away.

"Run!"

"Not without you! Just one more door please!" A shudder went through her friend's body and suddenly her friend was elf no longer but something darker, twisted. She hissed lunging for Ingwe and then everything was covered in blood. That was the last of the Vanyar elves. The castle and forests burned the darkness twisted all else now better known as the dead marshes.

Ingwe woke up with a gasp her eyes landing on the elven blade pressed to her neck. "I have always guessed at your olive skin. Why it was not as fair as mine, the waves in your hair, the deeper shade of color in your eyes, the age. Always I had brushed it away as attentions for love of you. Everything is clear now."

"Thranduil?" She begged hair still disheveled from her ordeal.

His eyes hardened. "So the cursed Queen of the Vanyar has come to corrupt my halls?" A sardonic smile twisted his lips. "You talk much in your sleep my Queen, how well you hid the truth. Two years? But mere seconds to us immortals you have lost much of your power it seems."

"It's not what you think!"

"What would you know of my thoughts?" He snarled. "It is fortunate the other realms looked to their own borders when the darkness rose else this shame would be known to all of middle earth and all the elves would be spit at for your treachery!"

"I know you would hear me out else you would have killed me in my sleep!"

"Perhaps or perhaps it's your enchantments which prevent me from doing so? Speak quickly or I shall part your head from your worthless shoulders orc." He spat the words his eyes afire in cold blue light.

"Princess not queen." She whispered all fight had left her. Truth will out after all. "The cursed Queen was my mother, seduced by Sauron."

The blade left a thin mark on her flesh as he pressed it deeper. "When were you going to tell me?"

"I-"

"Was Elrond in on this?" He yelled. "Is this his doing? Have you seduced him as well?"

There was not much to say after that. The union was broken. She was released from the dungeons only after Thranduil confirmed her story with Lady Galadriel. She left with a heavy heart cleaved in half by her grief. It is rare for elves to love and for such a thing to be destroyed. Thranduil lingered but he had his son and realm to think about. She never had anyone. Not after her people were corrupted. Not after her years of solitude not after Thranduil. She had never understood how she survived but perhaps she had escaped fast enough from the darkness or perhaps she as Galadriel claimed was too pure to be turned. Whatever the reason she now wished she had turned as well. She walked in Elrond's halls not seeing where she went the music falling like water drops off polished rock not easing her empty heart. Her face was ever youthful but she was old. Too old to carry such a burden. It was a month before she realized she was with child. She came to Elrond but he urged her secrecy. Legolas was already a target for the orcs. Her child would only be in danger till he learned to wield a blade. And besides better for a happy carefree childhood then one covered in uncertainty doubt and alienation. He had foreseen the birth of a child. But nothing had been certain until she was wed. She lived on for a time and little more after his birth but her heart held too much. And even his dark blue eyes and contemplative elfin features so reminiscent of Thranduil did not ease her heart. He would make a fine warrior she thought as she gazed out the window at his sword play. He takes after his father. Swords over bows. The thought brought more pain then joy and suddenly she felt her heart constrict. The light in her eyes that was fading dimmed. It was his face she saw as her son clambered on her lap wooden sword discarded when he had seen her distress.

"Naneth? Naneth? Elladan! Naneth isn't answering! NANETH!"

"Thranduil." She whispered. Something was shaking her yelling and feeling her pulse and then nothing. The Lady Ingwe had passed.

* * *

_A__dar-Father_

_Naneth- Mother_

_Ingwe- was the name of the first leader of the Vanyar elves hence his name first one, I saw it fitting that the Vanyar princes be named after such a personage. _

_Vanyar- are considered the fairest of all the elves, hence their name which means fair elves_

_Next chapter, Glorfindel makes an appearance, will be up tomorrow. Read and Review!_


	4. 110 Years Later

_"__The world is indeed full of peril, and in it there are many dark places; but still there is much that is fair, and though in all lands love is now mingled with grief, it grows perhaps the greater."― J.R.R. Tolkien_

_Note: The cover image is of Glorfindel._

* * *

Darkness. It was everywhere and nowhere. Fire it was all consuming.

"Run!" His voice was hoarse from yelling. Soot and debris covered what was once the great city of Gondolion. A nearby roof caught ablaze the heat of the sun did naught but assist in fanning of the flames. A nearby explosion of fire rocked the ground nearly throwing him off balance. The sky was dark with ash.

"Ecthelion fall back! Fall back we cannot win!" But Ecthelion was too far and too deep in orc blood to hear his cries.

"Ecthelion!" He yelled again willing his heavy legs to carry him. An orc tore through the ranks running for a small elfin child wailing in the streets. "Akenalla, Run!Rima! Nurta!" His commands fell on deaf ears. The youngling's eyes were glazed in fear.

"Naneth! Adar!" She whimpered as he ran toward her. Someone hit his helm from behind he cursed under his breath and turned swiftly slicing the cursed creatures torso in twain. With a war cry he cut down two more orcs dodging the first axe side stepping and bringing it down on the beast's comrade. He then felled it with a parry of his blade.

Thank Eru! He had done it! He blocked the blow from the orc intercepting the blow meant for the child. The child's blue eyes registered him."Diola lle!"

"You're safe now. Run to the pass!" His urgent voice imbedded itself into the young ones still frightened mind. She rose in a fluid motion and with a youthful grace and agility ran toward the mountains. He allowed himself to smile briefly. Perhaps all was not lost. If he could save one he could-! His eyes widened at the sight of an orc taking aim. Valar protect her! He started toward her but time seemed too slow his limbs failed him too tired from fighting even elves are not infallible. And he had been fighting for two sunsets now.

He fell to his knees as the child fell. Ilúvatar! WHY? He keeled over spitting out blood. A rib had pierced his lung at some point. He had been holding out but now. The smell, the butchering of elves, the taste of soot and metal thick in his mouth it was overwhelming.

The moment passed he forced himself toward Ecthilion once more. Heavy limbs yelling in protest. Why was the retreat not sounded yet? "ECTHELION!" But Ecthelion was nowhere in sight. He ran toward the hordes of orcs. A large brute was holding an elf like a dried twig over his head. The beast roared spit and acid mixing as one. The earth groaned in pain at the pits that formed from his spray. The orcs around him chanted in guttural growls. The beast roared once more and the elf yelled as the beast snapped him.

Eru have mercy! He ran toward the balrog ignoring the swarming orcs using their heads as stepping stones. In a fluid motion he flipped and snatched the elf landing somewhat unsteadily losing his blade midleap and rushing away to a distance.

"Gl or fin del." The elf gasped.

"Saes! Open your eyes!"

Grey eyes flickered open briefly studying him. The battle seemed to pause as a small escort of elves charged to buy the fleeing time, time that would not be enough.

"Looks like my road ends here mellon nin." A chuckle escaped Ecthelion.

"Saes! I'll staunch the wound just fight the darkness!" Glorfindel begged as he tore a strip of his own clothe staunching the seeping wound. The laugh grew weaker. Ecthelion's hand clamped over his own. "Go, you can do nothing here mellon nin, saes save those who still walk the realms of the living." He whispered. The ancient eyes ran over the bloodied battlefield filled with chanting curses and elven agony. "Saes, let them know we stand, even if Ilúvatar stands not with us. Let them know what we were, what we can be." Ecthelion choked on the last words hacking coughs covering what little of his own armor was still not drenched in blood. Tears fell unbidden leaving tracks on his grime crusted face. On tracks he had not realized had already existed. How long had he been crying? When had he last not cried?

He gently lowered his friend closing the listless eyes with lids. Ecthelion was right. Now was not the time to mourn. There would be a time for that later if he survived. "We shall be remembered mellon nin. I swear it on Eru!"

With a battle cry he ran at the balrog. Red haze filled his eyes his veins sung in unison with his soul his hunting dagger in his hands. He jumped at the beast tackling it. It spit acid on his armor but he cared not. He struggled as it gained the upper hand pinning him to the ground. He kicked at it coming face to face with the monster.

Someone was calling him. It was faint but growing louder and laced with more fear at each beckoning.

Eyes snapped open silver eyes with tear tracks going down the handsome face and well developed jaw meeting a deeper blue. He gasped sweat trickling down his brow the cold forest wind chilling him to the bone.

He found himself in a hand lock with the younger elf his blade pressed to the neck.

The realization hit Glorfindel in the gut. It had been but dream. And what a dream it had been! "Eru's name! Are you mad?"

"Mae govannen." The younger elf grunted pushing him off.

"What in Valor's name were you thinking I could have killed you!" Glorfindel released his hold easing himself of the elf and running a hand through his now matted hair.

"You taught me better than that."

Unforgiving eyes met worried ones. "Are you, are you …" Arrai trailed off.

The elder elf sighed waving away the question. "Only a dream."

"You were yelling." The gaze of the younger elf pierced through the elder one. It was as if Oropher had just come fresh of the battlefield the light dimming in his eyes as he asked after the health of his men. Ilúvatar! Why had he lived when so many had died?

The silence that followed was not broken for a time each plagued with thought on what had occurred in his own way. At length and because it was exceedingly uncomfortable in sweat sheened tunics Glorfindel rose. "I need a dip in the river." He stated bluntly because he had long learned that humor made light even the heaviest of burdens and he had thousands of years to test this revelation.

Arrai looked at Glorfindel scandalized as if the former had just suggested borrowing Elrond's favorite mount without his knowledge. Mischievous eyes met tired silver. "Ai Valar! What must we resort to, to frighten off the orcs?"

The laughter that followed was sure to wake every cricket that made its home in the northern outskirts of Lothlórien. Glorfindel could not remember when last he had laughed with so little restraint. Such blatant disrespect for age! He had taught the son of Thranduil well. The house of Orpharion needed more elves with a decent sense of humor. Thranduil's stoic self was doing his father little justice. Taking a dip in the Anduin was uncommon but not a rarity as elves were usually strong enough to withstand any high current.

Arrai stood sentinel as his mentor cleansed himself. In times like these it was best not to let down your guard even if you were only minutes away from the safest of realms on middle earth. His thoughts turned to Glorfindel's trashing. It would shake anyone to the core to see someone so restrained not even wincing when taking an arrow to be yelling in such agony at a mere dream. The darkness was growing. Glorfindel spoke little of it to him and Elrond took it upon himself to instill all the lore he could into a prince of Mirkwood. But Elrond was keeping something from him. He could feel it. He fingered the silver design on his bow. He did not feel like he was fit to lead. At least Valar blessed him with being the younger of the two, he would always be just prince it seemed.

At length Glorfindel emerged sporting a dark green tunic. They made it back to camp and he lit a fire of dead twigs. A bird's call was heard in the woods. Dark blue eyes met silver. "You are leaving me."

Glorfindel sighed forcing his eyes on the dried fruit rations he was breaking open. "This battle is not yours."

"I have learned well! Is it not enough?"

"You are prince…"

"Prince of what?" He yelled suddenly losing his temper. "Of a forest I have never seen? People I have only heard of! Of a father who has never asked of me?"

"Arrai!" The older elf barked.

"Forgive me, it… it was wrong of me to speak such thoughts. I know the fault is not his"

Glorfindel sighed. "Let us eat." He said at length passing a cloth wrapped bag of dried fruit. Arrai accepted the food then the both of them lay on their pallets.

* * *

_Rima- Run_

_Nurta- Hide_

_Diola lle-Thank you_

_Saes-Please_

_Mellon nin- My friend_

_Mae govannen-Well met_

_Next chapter, Elrohir and Elladan make an appearance, will be up tomorrow. Read and Review!_


	5. Meetings and Partings

_"__The truth is, everyone is going to hurt you. You just got to find the ones worth suffering for." -__Bob Marley_

* * *

Arrai was asleep almost as soon as his head hit his pallet. Glorfindel lingered on rising at length and fiddling with a twig as he watched the crackling of the flames. He dared not sleep for fear of another such dream. They were becoming more frequent now. Perhaps this was a sign. That it was time for him to sail. But, he had so much to do. Ai Valar! It is not enough the things I do. Glorfindel's eyes rested on the younger elf how he had grown! Thranduil would be so proud of his son. Another image assailed him. One he tried to suppress but failed. Arrai running toward the pass as the elven child had in his dreams. His hand clenched the twig tighter. No he could not think this.

"Ai Eru!" He lamented. "I have lost too many. Please not him. I couldn't bear it." He had no sons no wife no brothers no sisters and even the elf he raised was not his own. But it was enough, more than he had ever deserved for his failures. Gil Galad, Ecthelion, they were the brave ones the noble ones the ones who had sacrificed it all. Who was he but a relic of the past living far longer than all others. Blessed and yet cursed. His thoughts wandered for a time thinking of things long past as his eyes ate in the flickers and shadows his own heart comforted for a time by the slow rise and fall of the younger elves chest.

It was an hour before the sunrise when a shadowed figure dropped down behind Glorfindel's cross legged form.

"You are getting better Elladan."

The newcomer smirked. "How did you know I was not my brother my lord?"

Glorfindel chuckled. "You have the feet of an archer. His fall is heavier weighed down by his thicker plates."

A second shadow revealed itself causing Glorfindel to raise an eyebrow. "You have come in good time."

"Don't we always?" Elrohir put in.

Glorfindel rose slowly and then hastily pulled on his weapons and armor.

"Why the haste?" A confused look flitted over Elrohir.

Now it was Elladan's turn to chuckle. "He's being a coward. He'll never forgive you for this."

"Tch, there may be no need for his forgiveness ere I fall."

"Such dark thought's, you've never failed in your task Lord Glorfindel. It is not in your nature." Elladan put in once more.

The words did not seem to hit home. Nothing seemed to reach Glorfindel these days not even Arrai at times. Elrohir frowned as the older elf brushed past them.

"Stick to the Anduin when you had for Rivendell. It is not as safe as it once was near the mountains. It appears Fangorn is now host to unwelcome guests. Haldir is now high captain in Lothlórien ere I ride south."

The elves caught each other's eye and the watched the retreating form in sorrow. Adar had withheld something from them. Contemplative they both settled in a pensive silence throwing pebbles in a game of Sani.

Somehow halfway through their game the eyes of both elves glazed over in elven sleep. And if you would ask who had won both would swear to Valor that the other had cheated. Elladan was the first to awaken somewhat startled at the lack of belongings.

"Oi Elrohir!" His twin was instantly alert decades of training kicking in.

"What's wrong?"

Elladan's eyes caught a figure making its way back from the river. "Nothing, sorry for waking you."

Elrohir muttered something unintelligible under his breath before rising. Both were ready with hundreds of excuses for the elder elves absence though only half of them could be considered even remotely possible and only a scarce few believable.

But Arrai's face was grimly set as he met their own. "He left didn't he?"

The twins looked at each other, with a nod from Elrohir Elladan spoke. "He was-"

"He left without me. I knew he would leave." The wistful expression rested on the twins eyes glazed in agony.

Elrohir stepped forward and place a hand on his shoulder. "He did what he had too."

Fists clenched at the prince's sides. "I should have went with him."

"That is not your path."

"When did you become so wise Elladan?" Arrai mocked in an imitation of Elrond. All three laughed at that.

"Still, it was the least I could do to repay him."

"I am sure there will be many more chances for you to drag his stubborn ancient insufferable self from overwhelming odds. Though from your last visit it seems you have his luck at avoiding danger." Elladan offered to placate his friend.

The younger elf seemed to grudgingly accept their cause and wicked grins crossed the both of their faces. "So we are to deliver you to Rivendell." Elrohir put in coming in from Arrai's right like a vulture.

"And of course we can't have Estel around Arwen with no competition around." Elladan took Arrai's left hand and began dragging him to the horses that they left a few miles into Lothlórien just to see if Glorofindel still hadn't lost his touch in telling them apart.

"She moons over him more than is good for her."

"Besides Adar prefers you." Elrohir put in. As the two twins dragged their victim to the scaffold.

* * *

_Estel- Aragorn's name among the elves_

_Sani- Game similar to checkers and marble flicking. You have to knock out only the piece you are allowed to eat or your piece dies. Not much of a challenge for elves with their eyesight._

_Next chapter will be up tomorrow or the day after. Read and Review!_


	6. Mirkwood

_"__It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain." ― J.R.R. Tolkien_

* * *

"Adar!" the words were gasped as Legolas entered the throne room near the point of collapse covered from head to toe in blood most of it black but some of it a stark red from where elven blood intermingled with its cursed cousins counterpart. Thranduil was at his side in moments catching his son mid fall and easing him gently onto the floor.

"Legolas." Cold gentle fingers probed for wounds and worried eyes found tired ones. Legolas shook his head weakly. "Only a scratch Ada." The weak reply did not encourage the elven king.

He loosened his son's armor unbuckling it and then discarding it to the side. A gash on the forearm became visible beneath the battered metal. The King slowly traced the angry welt of an orcish blade bringing the blood briefly to his lips. "What of the patrol?" The King asked gently as he lifted his son as if his weight was no more than that of a leaf.

"Only three remain I dismissed them to the healers." Only three remained of the scouting party? This was troubling news to the ears of Captain Galion who had just been in council with his lord. The Orcs were getting bolder. More so than they had ever been in the past centuries. The King walked in brisk strides to the room of healing and laid his son upon one of the beds.

"The wound is deep but not poisoned." At the Kings scathing statement a healer rushed to the bedside tearing off the sleeve and beginning to wash out the wound.

"The rest…did not make it…" Legolas's voice was growing weaker his free hand grasping at Thranduil's sleeve weakly. Thanduil sighed heavily and took his sons hand between his own.

"He will be fine." The healer assured. "He is merely weak from blood loss."

Thranduil's brow darkened. "How many were there?"

"Less than a sortie but…but they…they were different." Legolas clenched Thranduil's hand in pain as a herb was applied to his wound.

"My King!" Thranduil turned to see Galion enter. Galion blanched at the sight of the prince who was now shades whiter than the sheets of his bed but seeing the kings even face color returned to him somewhat.

Thranduil frowned. "What is it Galion?" He asked sharply.

"The fourth patrol has returned. Should I tell them to wait?"

Thranduil sighed allowing a lingering look at his son's prone form. "Have the wounded been seen to?"

"Yes my lord."

"Good then let us go see what Captain Tauriel has to say."

Ornate doors were thrown open leading into the feasting hall used as a war council room in recent days. Lady Tauriel stood at attention perfectly poised save her tunic covered here and there with traces of dark blue blood indicating a scuffle with the Umai.

"What have you to report?"

"My lord we drove the main horde off. However a presence still remains."

The King frowned. "I gave you two sorties for a reason Tauriel. Why have you failed me?"

"My lord I!" She was cut off by a younger elf with equally long fiery hair dressed in lieutenant livery.

"The fault was not by error of her own my King. We met three scores of Orcs on our way back. They forced us to detour from our route giving the retreating Umai an escape route. It was why we were late my lord."

King Thranduil's eyes widened as they blazed down at the elleth captain. "And you did not see fit to inform me of this?" The tone was cold a sharpened blade on ice.

"I… We took care of the disturbance my lord I so no reason for this to be of any concern. Orcs are common in the forest."

Thranduil clenched at his sides his alien stillness and impassive face doing more than any expression ever could. "This forest is mine Captain. Everything in it is connected whether your distrait mind comprehends it or not is no concern of mine. My concern is that my servants are incompetent in their failure to inform me of things because they think it is insignificant."

The captain upon whom the Kings rage was directed shuddered tears glistening in the eyes and only her sheer will kept them from spilling. The King seeming to deflate after his delivery slumped in a chair waving away the elleth and her brother. Both left the chamber hastily not wanting to further incur his wrath.

Galion sighed moving a few figurines on the enlarged map of Mirkwood. "My lord perhaps that was…"

"That was necessary." Thranduil's eyes met his friends.

"I understand that she has made a mistake…"

"A mistake that may have cost us lives Galion!" The elf King rose in a fluid motion and hovered over the map.

"Have you heard from the southern patrol?"

Galion looked sharply at the King eyes widening. "No milord they were due this morn, I gave them some time for travel, detour and the like, else I would have informed you! Why do you ask?"

The King's eyes narrowed at the pieces of the map. "Inform me if you hear anything. Expect the worst."

Galion's eyes glazed in sadness. "I will my King. But…there is still hope."

The King rested his hand briefly on Galion's shoulder eyes inscrutable. "I pray you are right Galion. I pray you are right."

* * *

_Sortie- Ten to Fifteen soldiers_

_Score- Twenty soldiers_

_Elleth- elven maid _

_Umai- Giant spiders which infested certain parts of the forest of Mirkwood._

_Next chapter will be up tomorrow or the day after. Read and Review!_


	7. Tauriel

_"__Worst is a bad word," I said to him, "and I hope you do not live to see it." ― J.R.R. Tolkien_

* * *

Tauriel marched off angrily followed a step behind by her brother. "Why had you the need to say that? What possessed you so muindor?"

"What possessed you to hold back vital information gwethil?" Tulien followed his sister, a step behind her forceful gait.

Tauriel ran up the steps still followed by her brother red hair a blur as she raced away while he gave chase to reason with her. "It was not vital! Now he thinks I'm incompetent! Can't you see? He absolutely loathes me!"

"He only desires you gave him the full report. As captain it was your duty!"

"As captain it was my duty to sense the patrol which I did not!" She flung the doors open to her chambers wanting badly to slam the door on her brother's face but he was too close for her to do so without hurting him.

"So you withheld that as well?" Tulien all but yelled slamming the door shut. "You said you had sensed them when they were upon us, no one in the company had. Why the lie?"

Tearing off her weapons Tauriel shook in rage. "As captain I could not say I was not ready to face them! How could I when they depend on me for guidance? What would you have done if you had heard me claim that I had not anticipated the ambush?"

Tulien clenched a fist. "I would have stood by your side regardless. You shame me by thinking otherwise."

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere, I am going to think on what you said and tomorrow when the Kings temper is cooled I will tell him that which you failed to report."

"No don't!" She blocked the door as her brother turned to take his leave.

"And why not dear gwethil?"

Tauriel sighed. "You are not ready yet."

"For captaincy?" Her brother sneered. "I am child no longer! You are not the one by whose rules I must abide. Leave me be!"

"Adar would not have wanted you to die in vain!"

"Vain?" Tulien choked on the word as if it disgusted him. "I die in vain? I have trained for centuries Tauriel perhaps you are a century older but you knew nothing of Adar!"

"He too was lost in his loathing of the orcs!" Tauriel yelled. "Can't you see it was the death of him? Naneth would not want revenge! She wanted us to sail! To be free!"

"Really! Then why have you not sailed?" Tulien all but snarled.

Tauriel set her jaw. "That is no concern of yours."

"Then my actions are no concern of yours." He whispered coldly. Seeing her adamant at keeping the door closed he pulled open the nearest window and scaled down a floor ignoring his sister who burst into tears at this action.

O-o-O-o-O

Legolas awoke when the first rays of the sun kissed his face. He groaned as he attempted to sit. When had he felt so sore? He vaguely recalled a hand holding his own sometime in the night. His Adar should be resting not spending hours by his bedside. His musings were interrupted by Astalder primary healer in Mirkwood.

"I see you are awake my prince. How do you feel?"

"Fine." Legolas swung himself of the bed with ease.

A sigh escaped the healer's lips. "Telling you to ease the strain on your wounded arm for the next few days would make little difference, would it not?"

Legolas smiled apologetically. "I will try not to agitate it much mellon nin."

"Good." The healer hummed busying himself with a basket of freshly gathered Athelas.

Legolas saw himself out walking briskly to the throne room burdened with great purpose only to meet Galion who met him in the hall.

"Is my father in council?"

"Ah my prince! You gave me quite the scare. Last I saw his highness was taking a stroll in the royal gardens."

He nodded his thanks and ran off to find to his Adar. He would have spoken of what occurred sooner but the healers had insisted he rest and his father had been in council all night. He emerged in the gardens only to hear thuds from the archery range. Upon investigation Legolas discovered it was his father who had been practicing much to his surprise. Legolas would have marveled at the skill save the knowledge that he had never seen his father use a bow before. Another arrow embedded itself with a thwack. Then another and another. Legolas stood concealed behind a tree observing his father's progress. The first few arrows were a thumbs breath off. The more recent ones embedded themselves closer to the target however by elven standards they were still considered a far cry from the center. The form was perfection. The arrows release a marvel but somehow the arrows missed their intended destination. Whatever seemed to be bothering his father must have been grave indeed. That and the uneasy shifting of his gut gave him a foreboding feeling. Whatever had happened in the forest it signified something. He only wished his father had taught him more of elven lore. The royal library was forbidden even to himself only Galion and the King had access to it. Most of what he knew came from the few stories he wheedled out from his father. Once centuries back he got Galion drunk using Dorwinion wine. That had been the day he found out of his father's scars. King Thranduil was not too pleased with his discovery nor the methods used. The punishment was not severe but his father's coldness for the next few months had been more than enough to discourage him from any more such attempts.

He turned to leave when his father broke the silence. The tip of the bow hit the ground making a thud in the grass. King Thranduil leaned on it lightly face turned to where Legolas stood among the tree branches appearing amused by his sons antics.

"What is it ion nin?" Discovered and seeing no further point in hiding Legolas alighted from his ledge and joined his father.

"I had not the chance to tell you. However I believe that something or someone is commanding the orcs."

His father's now impassive face darkened. "What proof do you have of this claim?"

"The orcs, they had little dispute amongst themselves as my scouts and I trailed them. The more brutish one seemed to be barking orders and the ones smaller in comparison scurried out to do their bidding."

The King waved the idea away with a shake of his head and a nullifying hand gesture. "That has always been the way amongst orcs. The lack of discord could be coincidence especially if the commander is adept at instilling fear into those who follow him."

Legolas sighed irritably. "Something was not right with the way they fought Adar. They tried to drag one of my men off alive."

Thranduil waved this away as well though he was now frowning. "They do so often for some wretched pleasure of theirs."

Legolas groaned in frustration unable to reach his father. Thranduil sighed placing a hand on his son. "I shall keep your warning not far from heart. Will that please you ion nin?" Warm eyes met Legolas's worried one. Legolas smiled warmly allowing his father to crush him in an embrace.

"Ai ion nin," Thranduil murmured into Legolas's hair stroking it. "I wish you did not risk yourself so."

Legolas sighed allowing his father to hold him. "I must Ada. I cannot sit idly while my men risk their lives for the realm." Thranduil pulled away and gazed into his sons eyes his hand stroking Legolas's cheek. "Go rest ion nin leave me to my thoughts." Legolas frowned inwardly realizing his father was going to keep him in the dark of any development if only to protect him. He brushed passed Tulien who squeezed his shoulder in acknowledgement. Returning the gesture Legolas went to the general elven training fields to practice with his knives with whatever unlucky elf was practicing at this hour.

Tulien approached the King and bowed briefly. Thranduil's eyes narrowed in anticipation. "What have you to report?"

Tulien frowned briefly. "My Lord, there is something I wish to speak of though I know not whether it is my place or weather it means much."

"Speak."

"We were taken unawares by the orcs because we felt not the dark presence they leave in their wake. It is slight but it is enough for us to be prepared against ambush." Tulien dared a look at the Kings face which was rapidly draining of color.

"M…my King?" He stuttered paling himself. The King looked up briefly giving him a look of keen understanding.

"You did well to tell me of this. You would do me a great honor if you served me as Captain."

"Thank you." Tulien bowed and was about to take his leave but a hand briefly landed on his shoulder stopping him. "No, thank you." The Kings cold eyes met his own. Something softened in them for a moment a wan smile graced the Kings face. "You remind of your father, he was a brave man." Then the eyes were dismissive again and the new Captain of Mirkwood took his leave.

* * *

_Astalder- Valiant one, as elves value life over death those who preserve life are well respected and loved_

_Muindor-brother_

_Gwethil-Sister_

_Tulien- means coming in elvish, also the name I chose for Tauriel's brother_

_Will try to update again soon. Read and Review!_


	8. Of Jests and Skirmishes

_"__Friendship is unnecessary as it has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival." ― C.S. Lewis_

* * *

"And then of course I had to forgive him. I was the better after all."

"That's not how I remember it," grumbled Elrohir. "I bested you of three so that underhanded tactic does not count."

"Throwing dust to disorient your opponent is a fair tactic." Elladan declared folding his arms briefly then placing them back on his horse's reigns. "Besides father said it was a fair move, in battle no one asks you is this underhanded tactic legal?"

"Alright, Alright," Elrohir threw his hands up in mock defeat. Arrai sighed. While the twins were endearing their pointless arguments which usually ran in circles always irritated him somewhat. "Oi Arrai it's your turn, any adventures worth recounting?"

"Well," Arrai cleared his throat dramatically in a mock Elrond imitation. "Well this was quite a while back, in human years anyway, four to be exact, and although I gave my word to Lord Glorfindel he's not quite around as he was in Rivendell when I last saw you and I suppose it can't hurt… "After the dramatic opening Arrai's eyes lightened up in mischief causing wolfish grins to cross the faces of the twins as they shared a look. Glorfindel stories were always worth the wait.

"We were passing a small village down in Westfold, no don't ask me what we were doing their that's a story for another time."

"I don't believe it." Elrohir put in, "Either tell us what your business was in a human settlement or drop the tale." Elladan added in as an afterthought.

But Arrai had long learned how to handle the twin terrors from Glorfindel and only smiled slyly at their statements. "Well then I suppose this isn't interesting enough for you two it's your turn Elrohir."

The twins caught each other's eye and Elrohir sighed at length. "Fine just tell us the cursed story." The three of them had a good laugh at that and Arrai continued. "Well we-he needed to get information, no I am not saying why just keep listening, so we went to a tavern."

The two twins guffawed and muttered a few crude references to the woman's dresses in human settlements. "No I am above such things you two." Arrai muttered keeping his best bard voice. "Do you want to hear it or not?" The two twins muttered their apologies though the glints in their eyes claimed otherwise. Arrai sighed and then suddenly straightened up in his saddle eyes widened.

"You feel that too?" Elladan asked worriedly smirks instantly wiped of their faces all traces of the previous buffoons gone.

"What are orcs doing in Drimrill Dale?" Elladan asked horrified. What made things worse was that there were only plains and hardly any trees in the area.

Arrai blanched at the sheer number he was seeing. The distance and the orcs lack of unity and slight disorientation allowed them to go unnoticed. "Where are they going?"

Elrohir set his jaw. "Let us follow and see where they lead us."

The three warriors shared a look a deep bond only brothers in arms share. Arria's hand closed over the hilt of his sword as did Elrohir's while Elladan fingered his bow reverently.

"Nothing like a hunting season eh?" Elladan joked, eliciting chuckles from his companions. "Indeed," Elrohir put, "Perhaps this time when we smear them with our boots they'll realize their place and stay down." Faces set grimly and hands on their hilts the thro began trailing the horde at a safe distance .

* * *

Glorfindel met with the score of elves Lothlórien provided for him south of the forest.

"Mae govannen!" Orophin sub commander of the elven forces bowed respectfully at the Elder elf who rode up to the Silvan elf inclining his head briefly at the greeting.

"How are your brothers?"

"They are well. And your son?"

Glorfindel sighed deeply at that eliciting an amused look from his friend. "You needed worry yourself; at this age he is merely beginning to uncover the ways of the trees and music. Do not fear for his lack of interest in wielding a blade."

The frown on Glorfindel's face deepened. "I am worried not for it but for his lack of it. Already he sings far less than even Elrond's children after their mothers sailing. It is not he but I who am keeping him from this battle." Glorfindel unfurled a map tracing the path they would take his face still turned to the younger elf. "I cannot stand to watch him drench himself in their cursed blood."

Exhausted pained eyes met even ones full of pity. A comforting hand landed on Glorfindel's shoulder. "No one would. Valar knows he is far too young. Look to the riders. A number of them have just reached the lily mark and I cringe merely at seeing them waste away in skirmishes over the songs they should be singing and youth they should be celebrating. "

Both rode in silence the rest of the journey not hearing the jests of the other elves each thinking of things long past. At length, when they reached the north most peak of Fangorn, Glorfindel raised a hand stopping the small battalion. From the hill it was easy to see the dark shapes that were orc moving to and fro in a clearing hauling the now cut trees into a pile next to the Limelight, a branch of the great river of Anduin. Glorfindel motioned with his hand and swords were drawn. "It is time for these foul creatures to have a taste of our elven steel." His voice cut the silence and the elves charged with yells for Lothlórien beginning the massacre of darkness.

* * *

_Note: Tauriel is still Captain her brother did not replace her though Thranduil is not too happy with our red haired elf. For those of you waiting for a battle scene there will be more of those in later chapters but I felt that the fight with the orcs in this chapter was self-explanatory._

_Orophin- Is Haldir's brother, named by his parents after King Thranduil's father. _

_Rumil- Also Haldir's brother. _

_Lily Mark- When an elf reaches around 1500 years_

_Haldir- It is unknown how old Haldir or his two brothers are so they could be just a few centuries younger than Glorfindel. Also according to the book Haldir never dies and it is believed he sailed to the undying lands. His death was added in the movie to show the increased sacrifice of the elves however according to the book Legolas was the only elf in Helms Deep._

_I will try to get an update up soon. Read and Review!_


	9. Seemingly Harmless

_"__Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." ― A.A. Milne_

* * *

Keen eyes strained and backs pressed forward on their saddles the trio waded through the Anduin urging their horses forward with soft encouragements. "Orcs have not ventured so far as the North Undeep in centuries. Why now?"

"They are growing in power, never have I seen orcs so blatantly cross rivers; it is the purity of the water they fear, they have grown resistant it seems." Arrai's worried eyes met Elrohir's as he responded.

Elladan shrugged urging his horse forward to outswim the other two a wide smirk on his face. "Or maybe they just needed a dip. Valar knows they are in sore need of one." They reached the opposite shore faster than they had anticipated shielding their eyes against the rays of the sun which emerged briefly from the heavy clouds now littering the sky.

Orcs cursed in the black speech at the sun as they covered their heads breaking into a full run to reach where the clouds were thicker. "Look to the south they are moving to the North Undeep." Elladan's eyes glittered. "This is our chance let us fall upon them!" A hand fell on his shoulder. "Perhaps we should wait muindor."

"Or not fight at all." Both twins turned their heads, questioning looks spreading on their faces. Elladan broke the silence first forcing his horse into a trot to allow the younger elf to ride up beside him. "The darkness is thicker and though the clouds do not part we will still emerge victorious."

"Not if their stronghold sends reinforcements."

"Stronghold? More like a makeshift stable. Besides they are eons away no call could summon them to us and take less than an hour's ride. By then we will not be found." Elladan slapped Arrai's shoulder eyes still full of lust for orcish blood.

Elrohir took in the haunted look in Arrai's eyes. It had not been long since their last encounter with the beasts. Twelve years was after all but a moment in the eyes of an elf. He placed his hand over the younger elves reigns. "It will not be like it was last time. We will attack as one. I have grown wiser." Arrai bowed his head relenting. "But at the first sign of danger we retreat." Unyielding eyes flashed taking in the twins who assented at the statement.

With a nod of finality they dismounted as horses would only get in the way of their battle and charged. Elrohir and Arrai drew their swords while Elladan covered them with his bow. Orcs fell before them producing guttural cries as they died while others snarled and attacked.

Elrohir spun around expertly his moves like waves lapping at the shore drawing in and redirecting blows gracefully. Elrond had taught him well. Arrai bore down like fire sparing none of himself his body taught like his own blade wreaking havoc in Glorfindel's signature style. Elladan alighted from his saddle releasing an arrow after another, keen eyes always on the two dancing forms taking out orcs around them so that they would not be overwhelmed by the sheer number. A few of the orcs had archers as well. Elladan dodged them easily laughing wildly at the thrill of the hunt. He made his way toward the other two elves at the center of the horde.

Elrohir and Arrai fought back to back. "You have grown sloppy!" Arrai extended his arm parrying a blow aimed at the twins head. "As are you." Elrohir sliced of the arm about to stab Arrai in the back. Both shifted their stance to better shield themselves from the blows. Elladan joined up with them after dodging an incoming blade releasing an arrow in the general direction and receiving a guttural growl in response. Arrai dodged a blow to his head cutting off a leg and the head of another orc in the process. The sun shone now full force clouds parting again and orcs crying out as they attempted to fight both the seen and unseen foe.

"For Lothlórien!" Elrohir cried as he dexterously climbed a towering beast slicing at the jugular. With a roar the oversized orc fell crushing some of its own. "Not bad Erohir, though my count exceeds yours by a dozen."

"He's putting you to shame muindor he's not even a quarter of your age." Teeth bared Elrohir redoubled his strokes. The clouds entwined concealing the sun giving the orcs a respite. Arrai clenched his teeth in effort as he struggled to overpower an orc thrice his size wielding a mace covered from head to toe in thick plated black armor. He rolled around it in an attempt to disorient it and sprang at it from its back clinging to it as he brought his blade down cleanly taking off its head. The sky began to darken as if in rain. Arrai found his way back to Elladan who was now wielding two elven blades. "Where is Elrohir?" Elladan looked around pointing at a figure in the distance deep in black blood fighting the orcs. Arrai blocked another mace slicing the creature in half. "Something doesn't fell right!" Elladan yelled at Arrai trying to out scream the guttural orcish cries of joy. "Can you feel it? FALL BACK ELROHIR! ELROHIR!" Arrai called voice laced with urgency. The sky became darker clouds a dark grey hue.

Elrohir used orcs as stepping stones making his way to his brother. "Ellad-" But his question was cut off by a heart wrenching screech. The air turned foul, barely breathable, suffocating. A pale Arrai grabbed onto his shoulder. "We must retreat!" His brother cut a hand blocking a blow meant for Elrohir. The elves now pale and ill in the darkness whistled for their horses as they broke out into a run.

"What manner of beast is this?" Elrohir yelled in fear trying to contain the sickness in his stomach.

"Nazgûl." Glorfindel had told him about them once long ago. Arrai whistled for his horse once more. "Slow down." Elladan gasped behind the two. Eyes lidded as he struggled to keep them from closing. A black arrow was protruding from his shoulder. "I think the arrow was poisoned." He whispered.

"Elrohir!" Arrai grunted as he gripped Elladan. Elrohir running the hardest of the three was ahead. Turning and seeing what had occurred he made his way back grabbing his brother under the other arm. "Come on!" The sky threatened to thunder as water droplets fell from the sky in a thin shower. Another shriek was heard as the rider howled. The orcs however unaffected by neither the rain nor the water as they had been centuries ago gave chase.

Arrai's horse reached him first. The other two horses reached their riders only moments later. Mounting the three turned their horses to Lothlórien praying to Valar they would reach it before the poison spread.

* * *

Legolas found Tauriel sitting under the canopy in the royal gardens. "I thought I'd find you here."

She sighed but moved making room for the prince. "You called?"

Legolas laughed lightly. "Has becoming captain estranged us?"

"I am busy with my duties." Tauriel fiddled with her knife.

"Perhaps you should take a short respite. You have worked hard. I am sure my father would allow it."

"The orcs do not rest."

Legolas placed a hand over the hilt of her blade. "But you should." Worried eyes met stony ones.

"I would rather not."

Legolas sighed and rose admiring the flowers he broke an everwhite off the vines that wrapped around the canopy. "This flower would look better in your hair then tied to your hilt." He brought it to his nose inhaling its sweet scent.

"I prefer my hilt to flowers my prince."

Legolas settled down next to her once more. "I heard what happened."

Her eyes met his as she bit her lower lip. "The elven guards do like to talk do they not?" Both had a light chuckle at that.

She sighed. "He was right. I should not have let my pride get in the way"

"It was a mistake. I am sure you meant well." The two sat in silence until Legolas rose understanding his friends need for solitude. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight my prince." She smiled as he turned back to correct her.

"Legolas, Tauriel, just Legolas."

* * *

_Muindor- Brother_

_Note- I had at first thought orcs were affected by water but from the battle at helms deep it seemed they had no problem around rivers or any water for that matter. My theory is that as the riders they once were affected by water but grew resistant as they were not as dark. _


	10. An unlikely Begining

_"__There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds." ― Laurell K. Hamilton_

* * *

It was a nice warm day in Rivendell with a cool breeze blowing the Everwhite's in Elrond's garden. Valar! If he could only live in this moment forever. No more wars or pain no more past or a future unknown.

"Glorfindel have you heard me?"

"Aye mellon nin."

"Your mind is distracted." Elrond's rich voice resounded with a hint of an echo in the near empty halls of healing.

"It is my way. Why have you called me? I have heard of her passing."

Blue eyes met his own. "You grieve?" There was little surprise in Elrond's eyes but much confusion.

Glorfindel sighed. "It is hard Elrond, to lose another of the old ways."

Elrond's distracted himself with the view the healing halls provided of the gardens. "You can deny it, but you cannot claim you have never loved now."

"I was fond of her." He snapped losing his temper. It was not Elrond's place to mend his heart. There was not much left of it regardless.

Elrond nodded reading his thoughts effortlessly through centuries of acquaintance. "You are right it is not."

"Then why have you called me here?"

Blue eyes met silver. "Her son lingers. He does not fade."

"Should he?"

Elrond sighed. "I do not know. Many young ones fade if their loved ones are taken from them too early. He had only her. It would be best if he had more…"

"You are suggesting?" He read Elrond's face clearly. "You jest surely!"

Elrond raised his hands in peace. "One day Glorfindel watch him just one day. Then come to me in answer."

Glorfindel sighed. He had not much else planned besides how much harm could it be? "One day Elrond. But if I refuse you, you will recount the full epic of Gil Galad three times should it take you a day or three, in your bard voice with a lyre."

"Agreed." Elrond smiled wryly in satisfaction. Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. "Have you had a vision?"

"You think I would use such underhanded tactics?"

Glorfindel rose from his chair. Eru! What had he gotten himself into? Yes, yes he did think Elrond had done something of the sort.

"You will find him in his chamber with my sons."

Glorfindel left the halls of healing chuckling. The tale of Gil Galad took nine hours at best and he would make sure there would be a reciting regardless of who won the jest. After all Elrond deserved nothing less for his attempts at mending his heart.

His first course of action was to render himself near invisible. That was not hard years of blending in the shadow and light alike did have their benefits. He stood near the chamber listening to the antics of Elrond's twins.

The chamber was near silent. Elrond's sons sat across each other. An elaborate Sila board was spread out on a low table. The both of them hunched over completely absorbed in their game ignoring the elfin child no older than six by elven standards happily diverting himself with the array of flowers strewn all over the bed nearly twice the young ones size obscuring him from view almost completely.

Elrohir flicked another marble of the board lazily. "So," he put in. "Who's the better player Arrai?" Both twins now eyed the child riotous flames in their eyes each convinced that they had been the victor due to the others cheating.

A tiny face emerged from the excess of strewn flowers on the bed hands still busy trying to twist the stems of two roses into a crown. The nose of the concentrated face scrunched up in confusion studying the two delinquents clearly having not heard or most likely ignored their in depth explanation of the game and its majesty and art of subtlety. A mundane drawl to which Glorfindel had been subject to for the past hour.

"Elladan!" The child exclaimed and clapped his hands after an overlong pause and Elladan whisked him off the bed and twirled him around in reward.

"He cheated!" Elrohir grumbled gathering the game. But the tiny elf was more interested in the current pastime then in the brotherly squabble laughing in wicked delight. As Elladan spun him the other way.

"Oi it's my turn now!" The both of Elrond's sons had a brief tug of war with the poor prince until Elladan grudgingly relinquished his grip laughing.

"Elrohir will show you what fun is!" Elrohir tossed the child unceremoniously into the air. The child flipped midair with the grace and agility all elves are blessed with and landed into Elrohir's arms shrieking wildly.

"Again, Again! Saes!"

The child was tossed up again this time less expertly. "That's dangerous." Elladan's face and Glorfindel's own darkened at the near miss of the catch.

Elrohir who seemed to have purposely done that laughed tossing the child again. "Ignore him little one he knows not how to enjoy himself."

Arms crossed Elladan's chest. "I do just not at the expense of others."

At length the child squirmed in Elrohir's arms having grown bored of the game. Elrohir relinquished his hold lowering the child onto the ground.

Not waiting for a recapture by Elladan the elf ran off into the halls followed closely by the twins their eyes glinting in mischief. Glorfindel tracked them silently following them out into the gardens. The child had stopped upon seeing an elleth dismount at the main gate. He squirmed as Elladan held him speaking incoherent phrases too excited to make coherent sense he jumbled elven words together as his tiny hands reached for the elleth's retreating form. From her hair it was not hard to guess it was the Lady Arwen. The little would never have seen her as she had just returned from a decade stay in Lothlórien.

"Hey Elladan! I think he likes Arwen's dress!" The exclamation provided both twins with an ample amount of laughter. The child was then hauled off to his room where Elladan produced several dresses Arwen had worn decades ago when she herself had only been a child. In a matter of minutes the prince was turned into a princess pink dress and hair flowers included. The poor child tugged at the uncomfortably pinned flowers in his short braid, the twins completely oblivious to the discomfort quickly changed him into a deep violet gown after a brief argument. The dress had frills and dainty stitches. One of Arwen's favorite if he recalled.

It was at this particular moment that the lady herself conveniently entered. The child seeing Arwen's face suddenly froze, and began crying, the tears were followed by shrieks and howls. Ai Valar! He must have seen her and thought it had been his Naneth. The likeness in the hair was remarkable that and the child's incomprehension of death caused the young one to bawl.

Elrohir and Elladan looked on in horror as the child tore off the dress clearly having no idea how to handle a crying youngling. Valar, what was Elrond thinking leaving the poor thing to his twins?

Arwen's gave both brothers a seething look and tried to approach the child eyes full of pity. The child only drew back and hugged himself bawling louder. He shifted uncomfortably tears always elicited memories of a time long past. Associated with the sacking and pillaging of Gondolion and other elven battles he tried in vain to forget. But the child's eyes were suddenly on the curtain.

"Ada!" The child shrieked running toward him as the rest of the frills were ripped apart by distressed tiny hands as tears flowed freely down the cherubic face. Having torn of the dress the child attempted at pulling out the pins in his hair wailing Ada once more and then tugging at the royal deep velvet curtains.

Glorfindel stepped from behind the curtains only increasing the twin's horror. Glorofindel felt unbalanced as the child's large blue eyes met his own. Recognition registered in the innocent eyes and the child suddenly pounced on him clinging to Glorfindel's leather grieves like a brittle leaf in the autumn wind. Elven children would usually only attach so strongly to their parents at such a young age but he had visited the Lady Ingwe almost every day. The child must have attached the title to him. The portrait of his real father was somewhat similar to himself and of course the hair was the same shade. He must have thought Ingwe was referring to him when she pointed at the portrait and taught the child to say Ada. Ai Valar!

The child tugged at his tunic with a tiny hand while crying his soul out and throwing accusing glances at Arwen who by now was practically shaking in rage upon discovering how her brothers had passed the time raging at how the little one should not be subject to their stupidity and abuse of person.

Glorfindel sighed lifting the hiccupping child. "Ai ion nin." He rubbed the child's back quieting Arrai as he clung to him. The twins who by now were practically trembling on their feet looked from their enraged sister blocking the door way and too said legendary father by the window whose child had been their object of entertainment unsure who to back up to.

"You and Lady Ingwe?" Elladan whispered shocked only to have Glorfindel narrow his eyes at the upstart whelps. Both then fell to their knees clearly not willing to face his wrath. "Please my lord we did not know! We were just trying to keep him busy like Adar asked!"

"By dressing him up in my clothes?" Arwen raged. "Have you no decency?"

The child suddenly had his attention again tugging at his hair. "Adar." He whispered his solemn blue eyes now boring into his own. Tears dried out the child was now possessively clutching his tunic with one hand and the other tugged at his hair demandingly face pressed firmly against his chest refusing to yield even the slightest ground. Glorfindel sighed. Ai Eru! Better the child be his. Less would question his love for the lost princess of the Vanyar and less would accuse her for seducing or enchanting him then if it were another. It was the least he could do for Oropher. Perhaps this was Ilúvatar's will a small mercy. Returning to him if only a small part of all he had lost. He looked down at the child's wide eyes years older than they should be and kissed his forehead. The contact felt foreign it had been a long time since he had allowed himself to get close to anyone. His eyes then went back to the still kneeling forms. A thought made its way into his mind. "As penance you will assist Lord Elrond in his retelling of the Epic of Gil Galad. Three times."

The horrified expressions were quickly replaced with gratitude both clearly surprised at how easily they had escaped his wrath. Only Arwen who had once needed to perform the epic herself grinned in satisfaction leaving the room to tell her father of the wonderful news.

He whisked out of the room leaving the twins to prepare for their penance. The events of the day seemed too coincidental for it to be anything but underhanded. He looked down at the child, its eyes were shut tight indicating utter exhaustion. When had the poor thing last properly slept? He had never had anyone, and now that the he held the child in his hands he couldn't bear to part from him. Curse it Elrond! Why had he been subject to Elrond's wrath? Valar Ai Valar it hurt to hear the child's even breathing which had gradually deepened to match his own. It was as if something long dead inside him now awoke. He settled on a step leading to the gardens cradling the dreaming elf. A wicked smile graced his lips as he gazed upon the gardens. "Ion nin we shall give Elrond a taste of his own medicine shall we not?"

"That would be most becoming of you." Elrond settled down next to Glorfindel chuckling. Accusing eyes met victorious ones. "You set me up."

Elrond shrugged. "So I did. Though in my vision I saw myself reciting the epic regardless.

"Indeed. You gave me a whole day to accept the child. I needed only half. By a custom long past I believe you have lost the jest." Elrond chuckled. "Yes but at least I shall not suffer alone." Both had a good laugh at that. "I shall take good care of him. As if he were my own." Glorfindel said wistfully with an undertone of sadness as he smoothed back a few loose strands of hair from the child's face. A supportive hand rested on his shoulder as eyes full of love met uncertain ones. "I know you will." The two friends sat staring at the Everwhite's dancing to and fro in the cool breeze. Even if it only for a day, all was well in middle earth.

* * *

Eyes snapped open. Centuries of training, elven agility and a hand wrapped firmly around his chest prevented him from falling of his horse. The last thing he remembered was being utterly exhausted. The battle had been long and must have taken what little strength he had left from the nights spent in battles of his own.

"Glorfindel."

"Haldir?" Glorfindel shifted to see the blond elf sitting behind him slackening the hold. "You were asleep." Haldir alighted mounting his own horse.

"You should have awoken me." Accusing eyes met laughing ones.

"You were sleeping with your eyes closed, the sleep of the dead. I thought it best you rest to be better prepared for our next skirmish."

"Did Lord Celeborn send you?" Looking behind him he saw another twenty riders joining his own elven warriors.

"He did at my own council. The darkness has been shifting greatly of late. Batter we cut it at the root now. Or as much as we can rather than wait."

"A wise strategy." Glorfindel appraised and Haldir inclined his head briefly in thanks. "Rumil wasn't too happy about the arrangement though, Ilúvatar protect my return."

"Perhaps next I see Elrond I shall ask if he has any texts needing rewriting."

"Yes, I shall tell him that and perhaps Haldir shall be spared his wrath." Orophin who had been riding at the side of the sortie nudged his horse to ride up beside the two commanders. Both chuckled much to Haldir's chagrin and the somber air lightened. The trio rode of followed by their elven comrades into the forest to drive the darkness as far back as they could or better yet cut it out completely.

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_Note-I am always hesitant to insert characters for fics so I would love to hear your thoughts on giving Thranduil another son (Arrai I mean). I would really appreciate it and it would make my day._

_Read and Review! I hope to get an update in a day or so._


	11. Of a Meeting

_Note: I changed the twins destination to Lothlórien because I realized that when they were escaping they had no way of knowing that their salves don't work against the poison as there was no time to stop when they were escaping ._

_"__The true warrior fights not because he hates what is in front of him, but because he loves what is behind him." ― G.K. Chesterton_

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They urged their horses forward Elrohir in the lead head whipping back every so often. They must have covered more than a day's worth's journey for the sun was already setting in the west. "Elrohir!" The twin turned his head to see Arrai mounting Elladan's horse holding the now sagging elf firmly on his saddle.

"Can you hold him?"

"He's a bit heavy." Arrai grunted trying to balance the reigns in one hand while adjusting the ailing elf in the other. Elrohir gnashed his teeth and slow his horse to allow Arrai to ride up beside him. The two switched and Elrohir settled the weight of his slighter brother grabbing hold of his reigns firmly while Arrai tied Elladan's horse loosely to his own. Elven mounts seldom abandoned their riders but it was best to give them direction or they would be far slower than they otherwise would have been.

Elrohir frowned as his brothers form sagged against him. He's burning up. Arrai's exhausted eyes met his. Dismounting Arrai tore off a strip from his travelling cloak and passed it to Elrohir who broke off the arrows shaft and pressed the cloth to the wound. Elrohir smoothed back the hair from his brother's forehead beading in sweat, eyes rapidly moving under lids indicating fever. "We are almost there muindor." He said trying to assure himself more than anyone.

The forest was soon in sight. Alighting from their horses they met the Lothlórien patrol. Seeing the distressed faces of the newcomers Rumil asked little questions and allowed them in. Hands pulled Elladan from his twin but Elrohir insisted on following face stricken with worry. Arrai realizing two might be too many for the healers to properly work settled outside the halls of healing after cleaning himself from the dust and black blood which had seeped its way into his tunics. Gazing at the fountains of clear water which sprayed the luscious expanse of greenery around him Arrai tried not to worry at the time it was taking for Elrohir to emerge. He had faith in the healers, he had to. He must have been sitting there for hours for when he awoke from elven dreaming as it was the dead of night and the whole garden was alight in candles. He had not meant to sleep but the fight had worn him out. More than he cared to admit. His eyes met the one's whose footsteps had awakened him.

"Lord Celeborn?" He attempted to rise but Lord Celeborn stopped him with a gesture.

Though the face was impassive the eyes were glazed in much sorrow. "It is good to have you here son of Glorfindel, I loath to be the bearer of ill, however we have not the remedy for what ails Elrond's son. You must take him back to Rivendell."

Arrai's face darkened. "It is merely a shaft!" His voice was weak betraying his emotions. Lord Celeborn sighed deeply and settled next too Arrai observing the purple lilies floating in the fountain there centers like brilliant stars lighting up the courtyard. "It has a poison unknown to us. It would take my best healers and at least a month to concoct a salve. He does not have that long."

"How long?" The pause was almost unbearable. "Ten days, perhaps less, or more. Elrond's abilities are unparalleled but the danger will be in the fever.

"Will he live then?" His voice was barely a whisper but elven ears caught the question. The both of them continued sitting there until at length Lord Celeborn turned to face Arrai's pained countenance. "If he survives the journey I believe so."

They sat in more silence until the fair haired elf looked upon the younger one his eyes piercing through the soul. "When Glorfindel brought you I had first thought he jested when he spoke of how many you had cut down in your short existence. But now I see that I was mistaken."

The younger elf closed his eyes briefly not wanting to answer. He was tired, tired of fighting the orcs and a foreboding feeling in his chest warned him of more darkness to come. "I do what I must."

Lord Celeborn smiled cryptically at that. "And you do it well." Then suddenly his eyes flashed into anger and then into sorrow. "One as young as you should be sitting in the elven halls of learning reading the scriptures of others, though I do not agree with Glorfindel, I believe in the time to come you will prove yourself a legend on the battlefield." The Sindar elf rose to leave but turned as if wanting to say more. His eyes scrutinized the dark haired elf sitting before him as if trying to read his very soul, until at length his gaze fell.

"May Ilúvatar always light your path." Arrai inclined his head in thanks respectfully as the elf turned to leave taken aback by the intensity of the gaze. "May he be with you as well." To this statement Lord Celeborn broke out into a chuckle which morphed into laughter much to the confusion of the younger elf.

* * *

Thranduil paced the halls of the council chambers. Could it be? No. The darkness had died years ago when Sauron was defeated. Gil Galad, Elendil, Isildur, they had fought, defeated what was evil. But the ring!

Valar! He knew it in his heart. Deep within that the darkness was not gone forever nor purged. For years he had fooled himself. Placated himself with thoughts that this was the age of the elves. Lying to himself though a part of him had always known. Even after her death he had denied it. Denied it for their son's sake. Legolas, he had hoped, prayed that he had been wrong. But what once was had come again. Had it? Or was it a lesser evil merely a herald of what was to come? Or was this fear unbased? Perhaps he was overreacting. He had to be. With a sigh he released his grip on the table. Resting that is what he should be doing now. Familiar footsteps were heard in the hall.

"Ada?"

Thranduil sighed and turned to face his son face impassive his previous hurricane of feeling suppressed under a calm mask of indifference. "You should get some rest."

"Galion told me I'd find you here."

"Legolas." But his sons jaw was set, unyielding.

"Why do you keep things from me? Or would you have me question Tulien?"

"I do so to protect you."

"And what if I don't want to be protected?" Legolas yelled.

Thranduil's eyes flashed in anger. "Why do you question my judgment?"

"Why do you question mine?" The two stared each other off. How many centuries had passed? It was hard for Thranduil to believe that his son had grown. But Legolas had. The Legolas only decades ago would not dare question his Adar.

His shoulders sagged ever so slightly but sharp elven eyes caught the movement a grin appearing on his sons face. He sighed.

"Nothing is certain yet. Only that your suspicions were right ion nin."

"Meaning?"

"Nothing." The King removed his crown laying it gently on the table. His eyes caught his sons confused ones.

"The one leading the orcs could be anyone. Any orc with half a brain could do it."

"You were worried for that?"

"It is my prerogative to worry ion nin. I am King. I must think of all the possibilities. However, I have little proof. On the morrow I shall send bowmen to find out more of this, then I shall decide what is to be done and weather there is any true danger."

"Send me! I will go." Thranduil frowned at his son's request.

"You are crown prince, what if the threat was real and something were to happen to me? Who would lead Mirkwood?"

Legolas chuckled. "You mean if Galion bores you to death? Adar if there is truly no threat then there is no harm in me going."

"And if there is?"

"I will be fine Adar." His sons pleading eyes met his own.

Thranduil sighed looking at his sons eager face. It couldn't hurt now could it? "Be in the courtyard at dawn."

Legolas's eyes alighted in fire. "I shall make you proud." He turned on his heel and ran off probably to inform his friends going on the patrol that he was joining them.

Thranduil allowed a smile to ghost his face. "You always do ion nin, you always do."

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	12. Of Fear

_"__Fear cuts deeper than swords." ― George R.R. Martin_

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The halls of healing were near silent in the deepest hours of the night. Elrohir bent over his twin changing the cloth. A few of the healers were only doors away but Elrohir had insisted on being the one to care for his ailing brother. The moon shone through the large windows bathing everything in an ethereal hue. He wiped away more sweat from his brother's face and neck. This was the third compress and the healers suspected the fever would only intensify with time.

The shoulder was bound well but the dark indents on the bindings were not a pure red but a dark red mixed with traces of black ooze. The moaning didn't help assail his worries either as his twin trashed around in nightmare. It was his fault Elladan was laying there. He should have stopped him! Their mother wouldn't have wanted this. Why? If only he had been more level headed. This was his fault and it wasn't even the first time Elladan was hurt like this! Last time, the last time was the last time Lord Glorfindel had allowed his son to spend time with them. It had been a mere twelve years ago or was it just yesterday? Back then and even now the pain of their mother was, is still fresh. Elladan had a near death encounter and Arrai, he had come the closest of them all! Valar only knows what the orcs did to him! He gnashed his teeth in anger. If it had not been for his father they would have been dead. Dead for his recklessness his desire for the cursed monsters blood. His anger toward the orcs it clouded him like a dark shadow slowly squeezing out his heart. He knew it and yet he could do little to contain the rage he felt toward the hideous creatures. Ai muindor if only I could be the brother and friend you both deserved you wouldn't have had to suffer.

He lifted his brothers head up to give him some water but his brother began trashing about, the water spilling everywhere but his mouth. He held him down and a cup was brought to the ailing man's lips. It was Arrai. His eyes met Elrohir as he eased his brother back on the bed.

"What do the healers say?" Traces of fear and anxiety were palpable in the air.

There was a pause in which sorrowful eyes landed on his brother's form. His grip on his brother tightened involuntarily. "Saes, No!"

A hand landed on his shoulder. "We must take him to Rivendell."

"Why not take some of his blood ?" To journey with his brother when he was in such a state was suicide.

"There is not enough time." Elrohir relented. What else was there to do? All he knew was that if Elladan died he would blame himself for this.

Arrai left the halls of healing making his way to his chambers in the hope of getting an hour's more rest while the elves prepared the horses only to find the Lady Galadriel at his door standing so still she could almost be a sculpture. Tall and fair her keen eyes studied him. He bowed and a thin smile graced her lips in response. "I have heard of what you have seen from the company of elves that was sent forth to our borders. The dark rider and its mount. They have awakened." Her clear voice cut through the gentle breath as she circled slowly around the younger elf.

"We were fortunate if not for the rain…"

"Indeed," The smile faded as she turned to look at him standing opposite him in the halls. "Nine there were each with only one weakness. Only that of one is known. The Witch-king of Angmar Lord of the Nazgûl. Not by the hand of man shall he fall."

He knew of this. Lord Glorfindel had spoken to him of this on several occasions. Warning him against the darkness as he himself had fought this cursed creature in the epic battle of Fornost. If not by men, then perhaps by the gods? Seeing his distress the Lady shook her head eyes gentle as she studied Thranduil's son. "He is not the one who has awakened."

His eyes flashed his mask of fear replaced by fervent hope. "Then he can be killed?"

The white lady smiled at him cryptically once more. "Perhaps, the mirror calls to me, will you deign to peer at things that were, and things that are, and things that yet may be?" She extended her hand motioning for him to follow. Reluctantly he did for Elrond had warned him that the future that was foreseen was what would be, for it takes into account that you have seen it.

They emerged in a spacious chamber covered in greenery and Everwhite's strewn here and there were other flwers a brillian hue of violet but most a deep blue blending with the shadows. In the center stood the mirror encircled by a wreath of greenery with white and crimson flowers. The white lady glided to the small fountain dipping the silver pitcher in the water.

His knees suddenly felt weak. Swallowing his parched throat he whispered. "I… I do not wish to look."

Her eyes flashed to his own inscrutable. Such refusal was not custom among the elves. The gift of prophecy was seldom given and seldom offered. He feared he had angered her but she merely smiled, this time it reached her eyes. "You are wise son of Glorfindel to refuse this gift. For in knowledge comes great price. But the pool grows restless. Better it come through the waters then through your dreams for I assure you the dream will find you just as surely as I am a master of this pool."

Slowly he glided to the pool and slowly almost hesitantly he allowed his eyes to rest open the water which was poured into the mirror. At first there was nothing and then darkness. The black breath was palpable in the air as he saw orcs marching to the North Undeep. More orcs then he had thought possible to assemble without fight or quarrel. Then he was in a forest and he felt it more than saw it. His heart convulsed in pain, he gripped weakly at the edges of the basin the darkness whispered into his ear drawing him in to look closer. Hew fought against the urge but suddenly an armored hand dressed in cold metal clamped over his neck pulling him under. He tried to pry it off but its grip was to strong it pulled him deeper into the water as he fought against it. It was dark and cold. The water turned to blood the metallic taste entered his lungs as he choked on it struggling against the deathlike grip. A firm hand pulled him out producing a shriek from the Nazgûl as he fell to his knees choking the images dissolving from the pool but not his mind. Lord Celeborn steadied him a deep seeded fear in his eyes as Arrai coughed out red liquid crimson blood spilling freely from his lungs as he wretched it out onto the soft meadow underfoot neck beaded in cold sweat shuddering from the ordeal. Lord Celeborn was saying something but the blood beat too loudly behind his temples to hear. "Saes, focus on my voice." He shuddered closing his eyes. A sweet herb was broken by the elder elf and the illusion of crimson on his hands dispelled turned to water once more as the air lightened. Celeborn's eyes flickered to his wife who was standing still as a statue.

"Melamin Are you well?"

She nodded gracefully troubled eyes on the slumped elf. "I do not know its meaning."

Lord Celeborn allowed Arrai him to help him up to his feet murmuring thanks as he rubbed his neck free of the marks but sore as if the claws of iron had indented on his neck. "Do not fret, all will be revealed in time."

"Perhaps. I apologize for what you witnessed." Lady Galadriels sorrowful eyes were upon him.

"It…I am thankful for the honor. Though it seems the price was high indeed." An involuntary shudder ran down his spine as he left the two elves bowing out. Fear gripping hi heart at what he had seen.

He met a troubled Elrohir at the stables. "Where were you? Did you feel it? I thought the cursed rider had penetrated even Lothlórien wards!"

"It was nothing of the sort." Arrai assured him. It was the mirror. The dawning sat Ellrohir's face in grim understanding. "What have you-"

But Arrai cut him off not wishing to speak of what he had seen nor felt. "We had best focus on getting Elladan to Rivendell."

"Aye." And with that said the two riders took the Ailing elf their sole obsession on getting Elladan to Lord Elrond in time.

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_Note: When Frodo was around the pool Lady Galadriel had her test or what not so it's not too farfetched that something like what I described is possible as not much is actually known about the mirror and how real the images may be. If you think otherwise then just bear with me._

_Next chapter should be up tomorrow! I wrote this in a slight hurry so forgive any lapses in sentence structure. Next Chapter the fight you have been waiting for!_


	13. Of a Skirmish

_ "__Move swift as the Wind and closely-formed as the Wood. Attack like the Fire and be still as the Mountain." ― Sun Tzu_

_Note: This chapter was written by my friend Lord Exar Kun who kindly agreed to type up a few of the chapters. Originally were thinking of writing a fic together but as we never got to that he offered to write a few chapters to lighten my load. Enjoy!_

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Legolas stood on a high tree branch inhaling the sweet scent of the forest. The few elves that companied him lingered down below making final adjustments to their bow straps.

Mirkwood. Or so it was now called. Once there was a time, a lighter time, when the trees sung of beauty and health, young and bountiful in wonder as they were meant to be, when the land was then called Greenwood the Great! Almost as if the woods were alive, of course, to an elf they were. Now though, a sickness had encompassed the green trees, and blackened the sunlight in the day and muted the starlight of the night skies. A faceless shadow had fallen into Greenwood. The dark lord Sauron, the deceiver, from his fortress at Dol Guldur had corrupted the woods, and turned them into an extension of his corruption, aided and surrounded by spawn of Ungoliant.

The fortress was however in ruin. No more did the dark lord reside there. Abandoned by him following his defeat and the wars of old, the last Alliance. Yet still the woods whispered of evils, and felt tainted with darkness. The fell sickness of the very soul of Greenwood, now Mirkwood, now spread north into the realm of King Thranduil, the Wood

Perched upon a branch amongst a tree of southern Mirkwood, the prince of the woodland elves peered to the borderlands beyond the trees, and majesty of his homeland. High into the air, the breeze striking his face with a gentle caress, and the sounds of woodland creatures filled his ears. Piercing the veil of the treetops that spread for miles on end, his blue-gray eyes wandered for any unnatural movement, any sign that they neared any fell creature from whatever festering hole they crawled from.

"Do you see anything?" Mutely the prince shook his head, though he knew his companions could not see him, and thus jumped down the majestic tree he had stood upon, branch to branch, being sure to fall with the natural grace gifted to he and his Elven kin. Not once leaving an unnecessary mark upon this majestic tree.

Another one such as he landed with similar grace and stood before several of his kin. Fellow patrols sent with him by his Ada. To the prince it was a bit much, but he knew his Ada was merely overprotective. Perhaps to a fault at times...

"Did you see anything from the trees, my prince?" The captain of the patrol, an elf, of tall stature even for elf kind, hair quite dark and unusual for the Silvan or even Sindar of Mirkwood, by the name of Lhinnor asked once more, and Legolas shook his head visibly this time.

"Nothing. It does nothing to dispel the darkness that now draws around the woods."

"Indeed. One's sight can do little to be rid of darkness that can be felt looming in the air itself, my prince."

Legolas nodded, and pulled his bow around from his back, holding it within his right hand, and pushed his gray cloak aside. He examined once more, those elves around him. They were lightly armored and equipped. To mortal men, they would seem to open to attack, but Legolas knew that they were far better prepared for a battle should one come, lightly armored as they were than ever if they were to wear the heavy and clanking loud armor of most of the men. Of course this was a mere patrol guard as well. Were it war, then the prince saw armor as necessary, but they required silence, and stealth for now.

"Let's move west. The last pack of those sickly creatures came from west not south as the King suspected." Lhinnor looked confused, furrowing his brow in noticeable confusion.

"My prince. To the west is but the very end of the North Undeeps. Why should Orcs come from there? Surely they could still reside in the ruins of the hill of sorcery to the south, can they not?"

"They could, but they move west to east, and back again. They have only begun to wander north and test our borders. They have grown cleverer or perhaps it was their sheer luck that allowed them to ambush two sorties of our own. What bothers me is the possibility that they have grown smarter if as you say they come from the old fortress of shadow, and lure us westward." The prince spoke aloud, but then gave a faint smile.

"Then again, if they are coming from the west, and have taken camp in the Undeeps, then we have but to flush them from the woods, and let them wander back toward the Misty Mountains, or wherever they may seek to make their foul dwellings." The captain nodded, in a conceding manner, and said no more, as the prince nodded in kind and directed his company, a total of twenty-five elves westward leading out of Mirkwood.

"The shadow...it grows in these lands my prince. Do you think that..." A sentry spoke to the prince as they walked, not that he minded. He felt little sense in acting or seeming superior to his kin, Legolas knew what he wished to speak aloud, but desired not to utter the idea, for fear and superstition alone could half a warriors will and prowess.

"I do not think the dark lord could have returned. His defeat long ago has given the world enough peace. The coming of these fell creatures, spawn of Ungoliant herself, and the Orcs are nothing new. What is troubling are the new numbers they swell in. They must have a leader ordering them about. Orc chieftain or some other wicked monster I cannot say, but that is why the King sends us thus." The sentry nodded and gave a satisfied and, whilst holding his woodland bow near to him.

Though the thought never left his mind, and it was one the prince of Mirkwood never would utter aloud. The dark lords return to these lands, without so much as a single inkling by the White council, and the Istari would bring great evil and further darkness to he, his people, and the woods.

The trees, wild and great surrounded them as they glided through the woods on foot westward. Their natural grace gifted upon them making them silent as the wind when they so desired, and their hearing greater than any mans allowed them to notice the most sudden of snapping and miniscule of movements. Their sight unparalleled among the races that walked the world, and Middle earth. Yet, even so they felt uneasy. Their apprehension clear and permeating the air that already hung thick with looming gloom of the unknown for what lay ahead.

For the Orcs, and the spiders had since for the longest time from the fall of the last dark lord, remained clear of their realm. The Greenwood, but the wind was fell, and brought ill tidings. Whispers were spoken in the dark and the compulsion to look over one's shoulder was growing greater among the Woodland Realm. The King had thus sent a patrol; Legolas with much apprehension as well, to make south, and track the raiding Orcs back to their base, or to at east waylay them, and send them running from the woods once more. The night prior an encampment found.

Only hours ago Orcs, spiders, but stranger still Goblins. The lesser breed of Orc came from the Misty Mountains, fearful and scornful of the Sun and hateful of the world beyond the dank darkness of their caves and tunnels. Seeing them among the Orcs and spiders of the woods and from the lands south or even north from Gundabad, sent warnings through the prince of Mirkwood, and unwanted fear.

The camp from the night prior was numbered at least forty foul creatures large who secure in their numbers cared not to conceal themselves as did the others or perhaps could not for what occurred had been coincidence. Setting up positions and agreed upon mode of attack, his company surrounded the camp on all sides from the trees. Legolas was first to release an arrow. It pierced the skull of a hideous Orc, large perhaps man size, and likely the chieftain, and he fell dead. The camp went alight with activity. Orcs croaked and called and brought blackened swords and spears to bare. They scattered and looked around in dazes their foul sounds filling the once silent woods as their fires burned around them, and then the company of elves followed their prince. A hail of arrows felled them one by one. Each one a precise shot aimed at head, and heart, under and above armor, exposed flesh; blotchy and sickeningly wet and repugnant was pierced by the finely made arrows. Blackened blood spilled and poured from wounds as the Orcs fell and goblins crawled at the arrows before falling into dead slumps.

The spiders, those beasts were harder to kill, but not by much. The large eight legged fiends crawled and screeched as they charged at the trees seeing the fall of the arrows upon their horrid and lanky masters. The Elves drew blades, two short knives in the prince's case. The wretched creatures charged the trees, their tendril legs piercing soil and bark as they clawed at the elven woodsman. Their shrieks piercing the veil of silence within the woods, and terrible, ooze spilling maws opened wide for the bite and the kill, but blade met the terrible creatures instead. Knives pierced flesh in terrible cracks and rips of their skeletal flesh, and whines, shrieks and horrendous cries filled the night as they were felled by elven blade and arrow, until every last one of the creatures, both Orc and spider were piled upon their own fires and set ablaze.

Now, it was but a day later, and the company made their way ever west. Deeper into yet further away from the old woods. The harsher the trees twisted and jagged into the skies above. Bark was rotted and leaves were dry. Webs were arrayed and the stench of evil filled the air.

Night loomed and the stars above were blotted and silence as the dark trees and felled winds made the night even darker still. The elves moved silent and swift as shadows, and the prince led them on. His keen blue eyes looking to the distance as he perched upon tree and into the canopy of the wood. His elven brethren moved on the ground level and as silent as he. Their arrows always ready and bows within their hands, as crackling limbs and twisted twigs, the odd bird cawing and other odd sounds sent adrenaline through them. No matter how immortal one thought themselves, the woods spoke of evil tidings, and they worried.

The moon filled the sky and its light pierced the veil in places, but others the shadow remained master of the woods, even as they came further still toward the forests edge. Of course Elf kind need no sleep, but rest was never a bad thing nonetheless, and so the company came to a stop. A creek ran beside where their path led. It no doubt flowed from the forest river due north. They neared the old elven road through Greenwood. For now, with the darkness of night shrouding them, and rest desired more than needed, they stopped. Elf took drink and shared in bread. Not the great lembas, but it would suffice, as they did not feel great need to eat yet.

"We shouldn't rest for too long. We never know what enemies are about." An elf, whose name the prince had failed to gain, spoke aloud and he nodded a silent agreement. His eyes danced once more around their surroundings. No fires were to be lit and none were. Attracting the enemy by light would make things far too easy for them.

"My prince.." Legolas turned and approaching from behind was Lhinnor, his helm cloak removed, and his bow over his shoulder.

"You are troubled." It was a statement more than a question and the prince nodded, as the captain joined him by the creek where the trees had parted and allowed both moon and starlight to pierce.

"The rabble grows in numbers and come from the west. This we all know, but they are not merely raiding and attacking caravans or travelers. They are moving into the north where they dared never cross before." Legolas turned once more to his fellow elf.

"They have leadership. Of whom this shadow is, I do not know, nor dare to guess, but it troubles me. Perhaps more than it would the king." Lhinnor nodded, silently beside the prince and they turned to silence while the starlight fell upon them and their kind.

The silence crept and the night went on. The small encampment was no less silent as the night and the elves turned to their open-eyed state of sleep. If one could call what they did sleeping. Some were awake, watching and guarding. Their eyes seeing and their ears listening. Yet even still there was little noise.

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	14. Ambush

_"My point is that love is the most powerful motivator in the world. It spurs mortals to greatness. Their noblest, bravest acts are done for love." __― Rick Riordan_

_Note: This chapter was written by my friend Lord Exar Kun who kindly agreed to type up a few of the chapters. Originally were thinking of writing a fic together but as we never got to that he offered to write a few chapters to lighten my load. Enjoy!_

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It had been a few hours, as the night rolled by much as the day had before in these days of moving and patrolling the untamed great woods. The prince was resting, his head against a tree, and his hair freely falling down his shoulders, cloak pulled down and bow put beside him, as he allowed the wind to whisper to him and calm his mind and body. The smell of the creek and the woods around him sending an earthy thrill through the young elf by some standards. The darkness that polluted his home seeming so far away now as he allowed the darkness of closed eyes to take him and allow his mind to wander. Not sleep necessarily but the closest elves could get to the mortal phenomena.

Then, it happened. A crack of a twig, subtle but snapping and loud, and all eyes opened. All elves rose from their rest and from their plots upon the earth, as did the prince who gathered his bow in hand and snatched an arrow with great speed from his back where they hung from, and set his gaze down upon a tree line. All elves followed suit and they pointed their bows around themselves and their small camp, pointing in all directions not knowing where the noise had come from.

Legolas trained his eyes and hardened. He could feel something, or possibly someone watching them. No mere animal. It had intent, and suddenly the mood was broken from the peace and calm. Something had disturbed the woods, as birds nesting upon branches made to leave their homes or resting spots, and other animals called into the night.

"My prince! Do you see where the noise is coming from?" Lhinnor, not but a few feet away, his own arrow ready upon his bow asked, but the prince shook his head to himself.

"No, but keep your wits about you. Something festers in these woods, and is watching." A mere whisper of words, but heard by every elf whom all seemed doubly aware of the trees that surrounded them now, but the creek giving them some room to move about.

No sound but the movement of elves, and the continued drawing of their bows was heard, beside the snapping of twig and wood from the darkness beyond them. The prince waited with silent calmness sweeping through him as he watched the trees that interested him, and then he found his mark.

From the trees moved a figure, like a shadow among the branches, and he released an arrow and made his mark. It sung through the air spinning and pierced the shadow. A terrible groan that resonated in the woods rang out and the figures body slammed down, hitting branch upon branch. Well known screeches and groans escaping its maw as it fell, and finally slammed to the soil dead, and before the company of elves.

"Orcs!" Legolas called suddenly shrieks and calls came from the woods, from the darkness that surrounded them all, and flames lit between and beyond the trees. Their calls rung high into the air and pierced the veil of trees sending all manner of creatures whom braved not running from them, now into runs of panic at the call of the sickly little killers and rabble

"Ready your bows, and show no mercy! Keep blades at ready!" the commands of the prince went heard and set to memory for these elves as their night took the sudden turn to battle

The brushes and bushes before them and the trees as well rustled and came forth the snarling, sickly black or pale, but no less disgusting Orcs. They sneered, snarled and roared and with scimitars and blades in hands they charged the nearest elf to them.

"Release the arrows!" Lhinnor echoed the desires of the prince and a precise hail sped forth and slammed into bodies with sickening thuds of piercing metal and cracking bone, through sickly flesh. Gargles and gagging followed as they fell, but their kin came forth in droves and ran over body be it dead or alive with no mercy nor care for fallen ally. They stomped and screamed as they ran like mad animals at the elven woodsmen, who felled more with every step with arrow released after arrow. The sound filling and splitting the air.

Yet arrows did not nor could not hold back the swarm that followed. Orcs and their smaller and far weaker Goblin kin flooded forth from the trees. Rushing at the elves. Bows were tossed aside and elves to the front took up their blades. The sweeping swords swept up and across the first Orcs to reach the elf whom wielded the blade and gashed them open letting black blood fly and pool beneath their corpses. Goblins ran and threw themselves into the air at the elves, and the singing of the elvish blade through the air swung and slammed through and into armor, cleaving foul Orc upon Orc and Goblin.

What amounted to a small army was upon them and the prince knew not how such a force could have been upon them so quickly and so silently as they had come, but he could not waste time thinking. He slipped with ease his two knives from his back holsters for them, and with speedy wrists and ample movements, the blades came forth, twisted up and into Orcs that charged him from behind and forward. His right arm slammed a knife into the head of a foul Goblin and it squealed as he pulled it back out and spun his body cleaving both blades across and through an Orc rushing him.

His blades sung as he swung around and slammed his wrists from below up, passing shabby armor, and pierced the abdomen of a rather larger than usual Orc.

The screeching and snarling behind him caught his attention and he flung around stabbing into the neck another beast, before flipping around a kick across another fell beast before swiftly in a blur pulling his bow back forth and firing an arrow into the face of an unsuspecting Orc. A second one slammed into a Goblin, and a third hit another Orc in the left shoulder, causing it to roar in anger.

Legolas swung low away from a swinging blade, and stabbed his knife up into the Orcs leg and it fell over in pain, as he pulled the black blood covered weapon back out and swung it right into another Orcs chest directly into its black heart.

The elves around him were not faring well. Legolas sneered in disgust at the evil creatures as they swarmed and endlessly came running forth from beyond the darkness itself seemingly. Elves felling Orc after Orc, and Goblins by the droves were soon fallen upon by Orcs larger than others seen before, nearly that of men in stature, brought massive axes and scimitars over their heads, their maws roaring into the night and slamming down cleaving through flesh and bone of the elven warriors.

Legolas dodged another swing of an Orcish blade, and kicked the creature away before falling upon it with an arrow aimed with bow and released the arrow into its head directly on. He threw himself aside into a roll as more blades were upon him, and he fired another arrow while kneeling and pierced an Orcs eye as it fell in screaming pain and yanked at the protruding object with viscous anger and pain coursing through him.

"Legolas!" the prince turned and saw Lhinnor, four of the company beside him aiming their arrows and releasing them upon a horde of Goblins chasing after him from his side, and each one of the greenish monsters fell down into the soil dead. The prince with a notable sneer swung around and his blade struck into Orc body, followed directly by his second knife through its neck. The gurgling of the creature received no pity from the prince who kicked the limping carcass off and away from him.

"There are far too many! We must break and make back toward the north!" Lhinnor called over the resounding clanking of metal upon metal, horrific cries and shrieks. Legolas ran aside as two Orcs came at either side of him croaking and swinging the swords with wild abandon, and as he dodged and rolled away they struck one another, one gashing the others side, and the second falling to the soil in a heap as his ally howled.

Lhinnor came to the prince's side and helped him stand, as his companions fired another volley into a crowd of Goblins attacking three elves away who were cutting down in droves the nasty things. Their swords illuminated by the fire these beasts carried sparkled sickly with blackened blood, as they cleaved and cut away at flesh.

"We cannot hope to hold them, or fight them off my lord, there are far too many and more come!" Lhinnor warned as he fired another arrow with the prince standing and joining him as they let loose and struck two creatures in their backs, and sent them tumbling.

"The battle and path is fell my lord! I must get you to safety and you must return to the Woodland realm, to your father."

"I'm not leaving you all to die here!"

"My lord, you cannot linger! You are our prince! The only the only heir to your fathers throne and that of the Woodland elves! I nor any of us can allow you to fall here, and leave your father in despair!"

The prince sneered, as the battle went on. Elves were falling and the shock of seeing the mortality of his kin did not yet have time to fully register with the elfling. He only allowed himself to release arrow after arrow, but they were few now, and the Orcs kept swarming. Fires burned from dropped torches and Orcs and Goblins swarmed onto his kind as they split and stabbed at the elves whose bodies lacked armor, and where he had but hours before thought such a thing for the better, he now cursed himself.

The battle was indeed lost.

Lhinnor could see the acceptance in the prince's eyes, and motioned, before shouting to his fellow patrolmen to help him move the prince back and away from the battle toward the woods. They released another volley that struck Orcs with Goblins charging their way at the prince, whom now was slowly nudged and pulled by Lhinnor backward toward the treeline and the other elves.

They turned then after Legolas released a final arrow slamming with a crack into the face of an Orc who groaned and fell dead, and broke into a full hasty run toward their fellow elves. The prince felt it gnaw at him as he knew behind him his men were being hack and cleaved at, not knowing their prince was being ushered to safety...a silent curse entered his mind for these creatures, and he continued on forward.

Two of the four elves were at his side, their blades drawn and they slammed their bodies into unseen foes no doubt coming at him from behind, and with two arrows left, Legolas snapped the first and turned firing as he spun and the shot met its mark into the throat and out the back of the neck of an Orc attacking his men, before he spun full back around; continuing his run as his allies braved the Orcs still very much alive, and charging in the place of those who fell.

The final two fired and released arrows and cut down Orc upon Orc, but they continued, the other two battling ferociously against every enemy that came. Running an Orc through, then yanking blade out and slashing immediately across the neck of a second before slamming around into the very gut of a third in a spin. The second warrior very much following along. His blade piercing flesh of an Orc who flew back as blood spilled and sprayed the soil and elf. Then the same warrior cleaved up and across the face of another Orc who fell stunned at the gash crossing his unarmored face.

He felled two Goblins slashing at his legs, in one fell swoop they lost their heads, but soon two Orcs came running from behind and leapt atop the back of each elf. They fought and tossed them about, but more Orcs and Goblins raced to seize their opportunity and fell upon the elves who slashed wildly, losing their finesse of battle and merely stabbing and cutting the foul beings where they stood and as they attacked and jumped upon them, and stabbed, gutted and finally felled these two elven warriors or the Woodland realm.

"Come my lord," Lhinnor beckoned over the cries of death and pain on both sides, and Legolas followed as they neared the two archers. We will make into the woods and travel along the tr-" Lhinnor stopped, both speaking and running and Legolas followed suit but out of confusion, and followed his companion's stare.

The two elven archers too noticed their captains change of demeanor and frozen body and turned only to come to face an Orc larger than any other. Taller likely than a man, garbed in hulking black armor, spiked and broad along his torso, covering his elbow, and shoulders, with a simple helm atop his head, that allowed his snarling face to be seen but not his eyes, as he roared. The elves raised bows in haste, but he tossed them aside. They fell in a heap, and he smashed their helms so violently that consciousness was lost to them, and all went black.

Lhinnor drew an arrow and readied bow, training it upon the massive figure, even as they were encircled by a horde with the tall Orc towering over all others a sinister contemptuous snarl lingering across his blackened face, lit only by fire.

"I will fire the arrow, and draw the attention of this monster my lord. You must run then, and run faster than ever before." Legolas heard but barely registered Lhinnor staring at the brute, likely a chieftain, if ever he had seen on of the Orc kind. He had but a single arrow left and he had no logical way of escaping this encirclement no matter how Lhinnor desired him to try, and with cold blue eyes, the elven prince drew final arrow and fastened it to bow and aimed at the brute whom held a mighty scimitar in both hands and let a throaty growl slowly ebb from his throat.

"My lord!"

"Whether you want it or not Lhinnor I am trapped here, and I would rather die alongside my kin than run from this pack of foul monsters. Let us draw bows, and ready arrows for our final moments Lhinnor, and take as many of them clawing and scratching into the void before we go into the halls of Mandos and begin the long wait." Lhinnor did not speak, but accepted the reply a disheartened nod was all that was given and a set face of disgust and anger toward the Orcs and Goblins squealing and grinning and chanting around them lit by fire and moonlight as elves were felled beyond their vision.

"Now!" Legolas gave the final command and two arrows were released both aimed at the head of the greater Orc, but the fiend was not without a brain it would seem. He recoiled and sidestepped and Lhinnor's arrow fell beyond and slammed into the head of a further Goblin, but the Orc growled deeply and angrily in blazing rage as he noted the prince's arrow lodged in his right shoulder and he violently grabbed and pulled the black bloodied projectile from his flesh and tossed it beneath him and crushed it underfoot.

The two elves readied blades, and Legolas charged the great Orc, with Lhinnor, a mighty sword in both hands, followed his lord into battle. The Orc spread arms wide as if waiting for this, and allowed the prince time to jump into the air, diving down with both knives aimed at his chest. The Orc roared and suddenly rolled forward and the prince brought knives down into soil, and went wide eyed as he turned. The great Orc behind him like a tower of darkness, a pillar, like that of Dol Guldur shadowed over him, and with a mighty swing of his blades hilt he slammed down onto the head of the prince and sent him reeling back around and fell to the soil in a hap. His vision blurred and his mind weary, as aches suddenly pulsed along and across his body, and he watched in his final moments of consciousness as Lhinnor faced the great Orc, and around him a horde of Goblins and Orcs ran toward the elf captain, and pain filled Legolas' heart, and finally he allowed total darkness to take him.

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	15. Chapter 14

_How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep...that have taken hold." ― J.R.R. Tolkien_

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It had been four days since the princes patrol had set out and still no word. They were due back two days ago. The King had sent him to find his son. And Galion prayed all was well with the prince though the darkening of the forest said otherwise. He nimbly settled from tree to tree followed by six others.

They alighted from the branches at length running through the Mirkwood forests. The sun was high and the air light with an undercurrent of a darkness that had been present not too long ago. The trees and wind were foreboding. That was until the smell assailed him and his brethren full force. He cringed as he tracked the scent like a hound until he emerged into the living embodiment of horror. A younger elf simply fell to his knees at the carnage while the other few had tears in his eyes. Galion furiously blinked back those that were threatening to fall from his own eyes and covered his nose with an armored hand. "Search for survivors! Bring what bodies you find, those intact we shall take home those mutilated… we must burn." The order however was redundant as all the corpses were beyond recognition. All that was left were scraps of flesh and bones. The elves were horrified at the brutalization of their Kin now weeping openly and swearing curses at the orcs and oaths of vengeance.

"Search for the prince!" The elves spoke amongst themselves giving each other words of comfort as they scavenged through the debris and carnage for any sign of survivors. It was Galion who found the deep brown cloak of the prince with golden leafs embroidered at its sleeves.

The world froze for Galion. "No, no." this couldn't be happening. No! The prince had always made it back be it wounded or carrying wounded or wounded and carrying a wounded. For him to simply end? It was unfathomable. To Galion the prince was more than that. He was. He was a symbol of resilience, endurance, perseverance despite all odds. Tears flowed freely down his face as the elves gathered around him some mourning their own losses and all mourning the loss of the prince.

Galion's jaw set as he cradled the cloak at his chest. "We can't tell him, he won't survive this."

A fair haired elf rested a hand on his shoulder. "We must. There is only so much we can say until he learns of the truth."

Galion bowed his head pressing his face into the cloak. Why Valar? Why had he allowed this? The prince he had done nothing wrong! Why had the gods abandoned them? He wept. They all wept unwilling, unable to do more than that. They were more then stricken with grief, they were broken. How would the realm live on? How would the King live on? Was now the time the Lady Galadriel spoke of? Was this why the child had been kept in secret? Had she forseen his death and not spoken? Why then? To what end to hide the child when now he could have comforted the King at the very least with his mere presence. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The sun was dead. Put out by the cursed darkness. The sun set a blood red when he finally rose tears still falling freely down his eyes. "We must tell the King." He said at length. There was not much else left to do.

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The halls were silent save the change of the guard. Thranduil shifted upon his throne waving away his dinner tiredly having no desire to eat. It had been a long day. Patrols needed deployment. Elrond still awaited an answer on some unimportant matter. But all these did not weigh upon the king as did the absence of his son.

The delay had been far too long and he was a father. Worry was his prerogative and worry was the wrong word for what he felt. Four days! What if something had happened to his son? What if the patrol found his- No! He couldn't think that he had to have faith if not in the gods than in his son. He shifted in his seat unable to read through more than twelve lines in the past hour. Truth be told he had remembered none of what he had read. As the hour approached midnight he was ready to rip the report and set the rest on fire and then dance around it for good measure. Ai ion nin hurry back!

The scouting party he had sent after his son was due back any moment now. He rose and made his way to the war council room his eyes boring holes into the map. At length even this bored him and with a wave of his hand he sent the figurines on the map crashing onto the ground along with whatever else had been unlucky enough to stand on the table. He made his way back to the throne room pacing it like a jungle prowler. At length he collapsed back onto his Throne drumming his fingers onto the arm rest.

Soft footsteps broke the near silence as the worried elves on guard looked on at the scouting party. Thranduil's eyes widened not seeing his son nor any of the patrol. "Where-?" But his question was cut off when he saw what lay in Captain Galion's arms. "No!" the soft exclamation was followed by the King rushing to touch the shredded cloak of his son. "Where? Where is he Galion?"

Thranduil's eyes searched Galion's begging for this whole scenario to be merely a misunderstanding. Legolas couldn't be dead! He couldn't! The thought was impossible to comprehend. "Where…where is my son?"

"WHERE IS HE!" The yell cut through the halls like a knife. "Where is the body?" Wild eyes met Galion's saddened ones tears flowing freely down the Kings fair face.

Galion said nothing but a tear snaked its way down his cheek as well. "Burned, my lord-"

"NO! VALAR NO, SAES NO!" Thranduil fell to his knees still holding the battered cloak pressing it to his chest. He sobbed into the cloak tears shaking his whole frame shuddering.

"Saes Eru Give him back to me! I have no one else! Take my life saes not his Valar please. He is too young to die! Do you hear me? Give him back! SAES!" The wracking sobs resounded in the throne room. His son his precious son. He had no one else. Why? Why had the light abandoned him? What had he done to deserve this? And if he had why had the gods not taken him. Why? Why had he let Legolas go? His sun the whole reason he still kept on going. What use was their living in a world where his son no longer sang? No longer laughed? No longer existed.

He screamed. Screamed because there was nothing left. What little of his heart remained was shriveling like a winter leaf. And with each cry he felt more at peace as if a thin mist veiled his eyes. Everything was greying. Colors lost their luster. Trees their song. Even the coat he held seemed to bring him less pain. It was a numb feeling that gripped him. A vague sense of an undying furnace somewhere close to his heart. Everything lost its value. And slowly almost acceptingly the cloak dropped from his hands. After a good hour of shouts the hall was plunged in silence.

"My King?" Galion's eyes widened in horror as his blue eyes met the dimming ones of the King. "No! My King please!" He dropped to his knees shaking. He had known this would happen deep in the confines of his heart. He had prayed the King would be stronger but he had always known. Who didn't? The King was but a shadow without his precious Greenleaf.

The King turned slowly and then looked back at Galion. His face was broken in its alien serenity. "Please what?" The voice was far away as were the eyes the voice calm as if they were discussing something as trivial as the weather.

"What are your orders my King?" But the King pointedly ignored him and settled on the throne eyes staring at nothing in particular and said almost dreamily. "Orders? What Orders? I, I have none to give, leave….leave me to my peace."

Galion shuddered as his escort looked upon their King in horror. "Lord Galion? What are we to do?" A younger elf asked nervously as his patrol looked at the fading king.

But Galion's whole body kept shaking. He had received a letter once one hundred and ten years ago. Sworn to secrecy. Elrond had been against this knowledge spreading but Lady Galadriel insisted. And so it was decided in appeasement to both parties that Galion would know. What he did to deserve such an honor and burden he did not know but it was him the Lady Galadriel had chosen and perhaps chosen well for he was the closest to the King. It was him the elves would look to for guidance if all else failed. "My Lord," his lieutenant looked worriedly to the King, "We need a regent, we, we need you."

The elves looked to him for advice for guidance, lost and desperate and at length he relented. He knew himself and he was no leader of elves. Advisor yes but, if there was a better choice….his thoughts shifted back to the letter.

_A time will come noble Friend, Captain, and Butler when knowledge as this will you need. Look not to lesser elves must you but to the line of Orpherion. More I cannot say, for that which I have seen is clouded. Only know this, age matters not in dark times._

He had not been butler nor even captain then but she had known. She had foreseen this. "Mirkwood has a King, Thranduil has another son."

The gasps and confusion was audible throughout the hall where many elves had gathered after the Kings screaming. Shoulders set cold sweat running down his back Galion turned to face his brethren. "Thranduil's younger son was kept hidden in Rivendell so that he could be raised in peace." The confusion was evident but the elves instantly assuming that their king could have had a secret lover in Rivendell away from the forests in which his first wife was slain. Ready to believe anything now when they had nothing, no hope left. More sweat snaked Galion's neck unsure how to explain that this child was half Vanyar, half from the hated race.

"I shall assemble a sortie, and they shall ride to bring the prince back home." The elves were dismissed and he called over his lieutenant. "You will lead the escort."

The elf bowed but Galion stopped him. "I am no regent. Now listen well, no one must know of what occurred in Mirkwood or the darkness will hit us hardest for truth will out and if the darkness knows of our loss it shall use this chink in the elven armor to annihilate us. In this way now it shall be divided unsure who to strike spreading thinner than it would if it new our position."

"What do I say Captain?" The elf shifted on his feet waiting for the reply.

Galion's brow furrowed in though until his eyes alighted. "Everyone knows the Kings temper, say he found out of the son and demands him back, Elrond would not stand in the way."

"The lieutenant bowed." Galion looked at the Kings broken face and prayed to Ilúvatar that what he did would be enough. Then he went to his room and finished what he had started on the forest floor. Weeping his heart out.

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_Sortie- Ten to Fifteen soldiers_

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	16. A Fading King

_How do you pick up the threads of an old life? How do you go on, when in your heart, you begin to understand, there is no going back? There are some things that time cannot mend. Some hurts that go too deep...that have taken hold." ― J.R.R. Tolkien_

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It had been four days since the princes patrol had set out and still no word. They were due back two days ago. The King had sent him to find his son. And Galion prayed all was well with the prince though the darkening of the forest said otherwise. He nimbly settled from tree to tree followed by six others.

They alighted from the branches at length running through the Mirkwood forests. The sun was high and the air light with an undercurrent of a darkness that had been present not too long ago. The trees and wind were foreboding. That was until the smell assailed him and his brethren full force. He cringed as he tracked the scent like a hound until he emerged into the living embodiment of horror. A younger elf simply fell to his knees at the carnage while the other few had tears in his eyes. Galion furiously blinked back those that were threatening to fall from his own eyes and covered his nose with an armored hand. "Search for survivors! Bring what bodies you find, those intact we shall take home those mutilated… we must burn." The order however was redundant as all the corpses were beyond recognition. All that was left were scraps of flesh and bones. The elves were horrified at the brutalization of their Kin now weeping openly and swearing curses at the orcs and oaths of vengeance.

"Search for the prince!" The elves spoke amongst themselves giving each other words of comfort as they scavenged through the debris and carnage for any sign of survivors. It was Galion who found the deep brown cloak of the prince with golden leafs embroidered at its sleeves.

The world froze for Galion. "No, no." this couldn't be happening. No! The prince had always made it back be it wounded or carrying wounded or wounded and carrying a wounded. For him to simply end? It was unfathomable. To Galion the prince was more than that. He was. He was a symbol of resilience, endurance, perseverance despite all odds. Tears flowed freely down his face as the elves gathered around him some mourning their own losses and all mourning the loss of the prince.

Galion's jaw set as he cradled the cloak at his chest. "We can't tell him, he won't survive this."

A fair haired elf rested a hand on his shoulder. "We must. There is only so much we can say until he learns of the truth."

Galion bowed his head pressing his face into the cloak. Why Valar? Why had he allowed this? The prince he had done nothing wrong! Why had the gods abandoned them? He wept. They all wept unwilling, unable to do more than that. They were more then stricken with grief, they were broken. How would the realm live on? How would the King live on? Was now the time the Lady Galadriel spoke of? Was this why the child had been kept in secret? Had she forseen his death and not spoken? Why then? To what end to hide the child when now he could have comforted the King at the very least with his mere presence. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. The sun was dead. Put out by the cursed darkness. The sun set a blood red when he finally rose tears still falling freely down his eyes. "We must tell the King." He said at length. There was not much else left to do.

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The halls were silent save the change of the guard. Thranduil shifted upon his throne waving away his dinner tiredly having no desire to eat. It had been a long day. Patrols needed deployment. Elrond still awaited an answer on some unimportant matter. But all these did not weigh upon the king as did the absence of his son.

The delay had been far too long and he was a father. Worry was his prerogative and worry was the wrong word for what he felt. Four days! What if something had happened to his son? What if the patrol found his- No! He couldn't think that he had to have faith if not in the gods than in his son. He shifted in his seat unable to read through more than twelve lines in the past hour. Truth be told he had remembered none of what he had read. As the hour approached midnight he was ready to rip the report and set the rest on fire and then dance around it for good measure. Ai ion nin hurry back!

The scouting party he had sent after his son was due back any moment now. He rose and made his way to the war council room his eyes boring holes into the map. At length even this bored him and with a wave of his hand he sent the figurines on the map crashing onto the ground along with whatever else had been unlucky enough to stand on the table. He made his way back to the throne room pacing it like a jungle prowler. At length he collapsed back onto his Throne drumming his fingers onto the arm rest.

Soft footsteps broke the near silence as the worried elves on guard looked on at the scouting party. Thranduil's eyes widened not seeing his son nor any of the patrol. "Where-?" But his question was cut off when he saw what lay in Captain Galion's arms. "No!" the soft exclamation was followed by the King rushing to touch the shredded cloak of his son. "Where? Where is he Galion?"

Thranduil's eyes searched Galion's begging for this whole scenario to be merely a misunderstanding. Legolas couldn't be dead! He couldn't! The thought was impossible to comprehend. "Where…where is my son?"

"WHERE IS HE!" The yell cut through the halls like a knife. "Where is the body?" Wild eyes met Galion's saddened ones tears flowing freely down the Kings fair face.

Galion said nothing but a tear snaked its way down his cheek as well. "Burned, my lord-"

"NO! VALAR NO, SAES NO!" Thranduil fell to his knees still holding the battered cloak pressing it to his chest. He sobbed into the cloak tears shaking his whole frame shuddering.

"Saes Eru Give him back to me! I have no one else! Take my life saes not his Valar please. He is too young to die! Do you hear me? Give him back! SAES!" The wracking sobs resounded in the throne room. His son his precious son. He had no one else. Why? Why had the light abandoned him? What had he done to deserve this? And if he had why had the gods not taken him. Why? Why had he let Legolas go? His sun the whole reason he still kept on going. What use was their living in a world where his son no longer sang? No longer laughed? No longer existed.

He screamed. Screamed because there was nothing left. What little of his heart remained was shriveling like a winter leaf. And with each cry he felt more at peace as if a thin mist veiled his eyes. Everything was greying. Colors lost their luster. Trees their song. Even the coat he held seemed to bring him less pain. It was a numb feeling that gripped him. A vague sense of an undying furnace somewhere close to his heart. Everything lost its value. And slowly almost acceptingly the cloak dropped from his hands. After a good hour of shouts the hall was plunged in silence.

"My King?" Galion's eyes widened in horror as his blue eyes met the dimming ones of the King. "No! My King please!" He dropped to his knees shaking. He had known this would happen deep in the confines of his heart. He had prayed the King would be stronger but he had always known. Who didn't? The King was but a shadow without his precious Greenleaf.

The King turned slowly and then looked back at Galion. His face was broken in its alien serenity. "Please what?" The voice was far away as were the eyes the voice calm as if they were discussing something as trivial as the weather.

"What are your orders my King?" But the King pointedly ignored him and settled on the throne eyes staring at nothing in particular and said almost dreamily. "Orders? What Orders? I, I have none to give, leave….leave me to my peace."

Galion shuddered as his escort looked upon their King in horror. "Lord Galion? What are we to do?" A younger elf asked nervously as his patrol looked at the fading king.

But Galion's whole body kept shaking. He had received a letter once one hundred and ten years ago. Sworn to secrecy. Elrond had been against this knowledge spreading but Lady Galadriel insisted. And so it was decided in appeasement to both parties that Galion would know. What he did to deserve such an honor and burden he did not know but it was him the Lady Galadriel had chosen and perhaps chosen well for he was the closest to the King. It was him the elves would look to for guidance if all else failed. "My Lord," his lieutenant looked worriedly to the King, "We need a regent, we, we need you."

The elves looked to him for advice for guidance, lost and desperate and at length he relented. He knew himself and he was no leader of elves. Advisor yes but, if there was a better choice….his thoughts shifted back to the letter.

_A time will come noble Friend, Captain, and Butler when knowledge as this will you need. Look not to lesser elves must you but to the line of Orpherion. More I cannot say, for that which I have seen is clouded. Only know this, age matters not in dark times._

He had not been butler nor even captain then but she had known. She had foreseen this. "Mirkwood has a King, Thranduil has another son."

The gasps and confusion was audible throughout the hall where many elves had gathered after the Kings screaming. Shoulders set cold sweat running down his back Galion turned to face his brethren. "Thranduil's younger son was kept hidden in Rivendell so that he could be raised in peace." The confusion was evident but the elves instantly assuming that their king could have had a secret lover in Rivendell away from the forests in which his first wife was slain. Ready to believe anything now when they had nothing, no hope left. More sweat snaked Galion's neck unsure how to explain that this child was half Vanyar, half from the hated race.

"I shall assemble a sortie, and they shall ride to bring the prince back home." The elves were dismissed and he called over his lieutenant. "You will lead the escort."

The elf bowed but Galion stopped him. "I am no regent. Now listen well, no one must know of what occurred in Mirkwood or the darkness will hit us hardest for truth will out and if the darkness knows of our loss it shall use this chink in the elven armor to annihilate us. In this way now it shall be divided unsure who to strike spreading thinner than it would if it new our position."

"What do I say Captain?" The elf shifted on his feet waiting for the reply.

Galion's brow furrowed in though until his eyes alighted. "Everyone knows the Kings temper, say he found out of the son and demands him back, Elrond would not stand in the way."

"The lieutenant bowed." Galion looked at the Kings broken face and prayed to Ilúvatar that what he did would be enough. Then he went to his room and finished what he had started on the forest floor. Weeping his heart out.

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_Sortie- Ten to Fifteen soldiers_

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_Note: I'm a bit disappointed at the lack of responses I'm getting, for spending hours of my day to update like every day seriously how many authors do that? While I never expected ten reviews per chapter I did hope for two or three at most. At this point I will still update and stuff but yea you get the picture. _


	17. Rivendell

_"__It is not the strength of the body that counts, but the strength of the spirit."― J.R.R. Tolkien_

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Arrai whipped his head back forcing his horse to ride harder. "How, how is he?" He yelled to be heard over the wind.

Elrohir's face was ashen and his words were near lost to the wind. "Ride ahead get my father."

Riding on one horse over switching horses because of the weight and speed they were using gave Arrai a slight advantage though only by a margin. He whispered words of encouragement to his horse. "Saes we are very near he whispered to it mane. A little more and you can rest."

The horse whinnied in response and quickened its pace its hooves hitting the grass now heavily for an elven mount its breathing labored with fatigue. But that was to be expected as he had covered a near three days of riding after another short respite by the river which wasn't much.

A half hour ahead and he could already see the Rivendell. He rode through the roads falling to the ground in a crouch gasping for air. The startled guards ran over to assist him and after a few quick words with the captain Elrond who had been in the gardens with Arwen was by his side.

"It's Elladan, he's been poisoned. I've ridden ahead at Elrohir's behest but even now. I do not know…" Taking in the riders disheveled appearance Elrond's mouth set grimly his thoughts inscrutable. While Arwen paled considerably in fear for her brother.

"Describe the poison to me quickly."

Arrai followed Elrond to the halls of healing. He had not taken any of Elladan's blood but he described the wound and its symptoms in as much detail as he could. Elrond listened patiently face in a stoic mask of calm though Arrai new that inside that Elrond was tearing up for his eyes were full of fear for his sons sake.

His dazed mind was brought back when Elrond's hand landed on his shoulder. "You did well. I suggest you go rest before you collapse." The younger elf would have stayed but he was at his limit. Trying not to sway on the spot he headed to his chamber.

"Arwen." Elrond gave his daughter a meaningful look and though she was now ashen she quickly began pulling out herbs for the antidote.

Elrohir crashed into the courtyard a quarter of an hour later his horses feet simply collapsed under it in exhaustion and Elrohir rolled of holding his brother tightly as he rolled of its back and placed his brother gently on the grass. Elrond who was already back at the courtyard with a few of the healers took in his sons haggard appearance.

"Ion nin." His father's warm hand landed on his shoulder as he pried Elladan out of Elrohir's firm grip. "Ada! Please you have to save him!"

"I'll do what I can. Ion nin." Elrond was about to order Elrohir to get some rest but the command died on his lips when his son simply swayed and crumpled to the ground in a faint eyes closed in sheer exhaustion. With a sigh he laid the slumped form of Elrohir on the ground and had the healers assist him in dragging his sons foolish bodies into the halls of healing.

Elrond cursed under his breath as he examined his son. The poison was near the heart it was a miracle it hadn't killed him already. He made several incisions close to the wound and instructed Arwen to pull out several more ingredients. Placing a bowl he drained some of the blood. Now came the harder part. Rolling up his sleeves he prepared himself for a long night.

Arwen sat next to her brother holding his hand. Now more than ever she was scared. He was so hot, it was like attempting to touch fire. She placed another compress on his forehead. Please don't die! I'll never be cross with you ever again just please! All the anger she had ever felt from her brothers infuriating yet harmless fun as they would call it vanished. She just wanted her brother back. Please just don't die! His heart was beating too fast. She quickly broke more athelas but that herb had lost its effectiveness over him two hours ago.

She looked over to where her father was standing face impassive. Though he tried hard to suppress it she could feel his fear. Adar! Please hurry! Elladan moaned and she hurried her attention back to her ailing brother.

Being the best healer of middle earth had allowed Elrond to save many lives. It also allowed him to keep calm when others worried as he could usually save his patients. Strangely enough that being said Elrond had truly feared for the lives of others many many times among them being his wife Celebrían, that one time he nearly lost Glorfindel and the various times his sons came back from their near death encounters. For the best healer of middle earth he wasn't that much better off it seemed. He dipped the new paste into the bowl of blood. Nothing, he attempted several more variations until! He had it! He quickly mixed the stems of several flowers together creating a sticky paste which though having a nice scent probably tasted like grass and dirt.

Making his way to his sons limp form he quickly applied the paste. "We'll need to make him swallow some." With little effort he lifted his son and Arwen forced Elladan's mouth to choke some in by mixing the concoction with water and then making him drink it. Now all that was left was to sit and hope this was enough.

The fever held up all through the night and all of the next day. It was evening when Arrai joined Arwen in the halls of healing settling on the bench next to her as she held her brothers hand stroking it lovingly.

"How is he?" Worried eyes met anxious ones as he took a seat next to Arwen. She shook her head dark tresses unkempt from staying up all night. "A bit better, the fever went down for an hour then went back up, I think- Adar said this is a good sign." Her weak voice was not reassuring.

"He's a fighter, and to stubborn to leave us just yet." Arrai's reassuring smile had Arwen smiling thinly as well. "I… I feel like it was only yesterday… he…he stole the pendant Naneth left me…I was furious when I found out and then…" A tear slipped down Arwen's cheek as she spoke fondly of her brother. "Then…he brought it back with a bracelet and ring to … match… he had borrowed it so he and…and Elrohir could make them match…and... and surprise me for my life day." At this Arwen began weeping silently. Sighing and with tears in his own eyes he put a comforting hand around Arwen.

"He'll get better I'm, I'm sure of it." He whispered. One look at the two and Elrohir's face lost all color. "Is he?" Arrai shook his head. "He's still there, barely."

Elrohir ran a hand through his hair. "And Adar?"

Arwen broke rose as she wiped at her tears furiously. "He's making more of the antidote."

Taking in Arwen's appearance Elrohir frowned. "You should go get some rest we'll look after him." She nodded and went to her chambers as Elrohir settled next to Arrai resting his head on his hands as he looked toward his twin. "This is my fault." He said at length as Arrai wiped more sweat of Elladan's brow.

"It is not yours, it is mine." Arrai's unforgiving eyes met Elrohir's.

"I'm older."

"I should have been more level headed."

"You were you, we should have listened." The two stared each other down but Elrond's entrance had them both break the contest.

"Adar? Will he?"

Making his way to the bed Elrond placed a hand on his ailing's son's forehead closing his eyes briefly. A smile broke out on his face. "He will take time to recover but the worst is past."

An even bigger smile spread on the faces of Elrohir and Arrai.

Two days and Elladan was already attempting to string a bow. "Oi maybe you should wait you don't want to reopen anything." Elrohir plopped down next to Arrai who was observing Elladan and Arwen compete best of ten.

"I'm fine." Elladan grumbled as he loosened another arrow. Behind the two sitting on the bench Lord Elrond sighed coming out from the healers ward into the garden. "My definition of fine and yours are hardly the same thing ion nin."

With a sigh and under Elrond's watchful scrutiny Elladan placed his bow on a stand flexing his wounded shoulder. "Perhaps I should take a break."

"Perhaps is the wrong word." Arwen said frowning. "You're bleeding again." Elrond was about to admonish his son when an elven guard ran in.

"What is it? A patient?" Taking in the elves worried demeanor Elrond hurried to see what was needed of him.

"No…my Lord…it's an escort from Mirkwood. They say they…wish to see Thranduil's son."

Elrond's eyes widened. But how could he have known? Elrond hurried passed the confused elf and the puzzled faces of his children rushing into the courtyard to cover up the scene before all of Rivendell found of the truth. He was followed by Elrohir and Arrai. "Elrohir?"

"Adar?"

"Go make sure your fool of a brother stays at the healing ward and allows Arwen to rewrap the wound." Although both his twins were adapt at escaping the halls of healing Elladan was the more brashfull one. One time he had left barely even conscious. At least Elrohir had the decency to be half mended when he would make his escapes. With a sly look of understanding Elrohir turned on his heals to apprehend his notorious brother. Arrai was about to follow him but Elrond's hand stopped him resting briefly on his shoulder. "You must come with me."

The two emerged in the courtyard to an alighting fair haired elf. "Lord Elrond." The elf made a brief bow. Then froze upon seeing the prince eyes widening as he took in the likeness of the bone structure to those of the King and prince of Mirkwood. And though the younger elf had a darker complexion it was not hard to guess who the father was if one had lived their whole life in Mirkwood. The messenger appeared as if he wanted to bow but then seemed to think the better of it.

"What does King Thranduil want?"

The Captain's eyes flickered between the younger elf and the older one as if searching for the right words. "His highness has found of his son?" The elf was hesitant. Was it Thranduil who had hidden his son or Galion? He had asked little questions upon leave being in a hurry that he was but it would make far more sense if Thranduil had not known else why would he have faded as quickly as he did? Swallowing he put more authority into his voice. "The King wishes his son back."

Sensing deception somewhere in his speech Elrond's eyes bore down onto the captain who squared his shoulders under the scrutiny. "How did he find of this?" Elrond's voice was sharp.

But he was captain of Mirkwood. And anyone who could face Thranduil's wrath was quite capable of holding their own against Elrond half elven. "I believe his highnesses sources are none of your concern; regardless I am his captain I do as he says without him providing ample reason."

Lord Elrond was about to answer hotly to the messenger's insufferable bratiness but he was saved by the prince who stepped between the two eyes shooting a meaningful look at Lord Elrond. "If my father wishes to see me I see no reason to deny him my presence."

Lord Elrond's eyes narrowed and he appeared as if he wanted to say more but perhaps now was the time. And even he would not dare keep a father from his son longer than was necessary. He had wanted to keep this secret for longer but he knew he could not. The child had grown in relative safety and now he was a warrior. A warrior who belonged in the forests of Mirkwood protecting it from the darkness as was his birthright. He sighed. "Go with the blessing of Ilúvatar may he protect you."

Arrai embraced a man he had come to revere as an uncle and said a brief farewell to the twins and their sister promising a visit when he could. He would have lingered more and even stayed for the night but sensing the Captains need for haste he alighted onto a horse frowning as the Captain after passing the first few arches and bridges leading out of Rivendell suddenly spurred his horse to a full run. His eyes narrowed as he followed suit. Just what in Valar's name was going on?

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_Ion nin- my son_

_Saes- Please_

_Note:This is more of a connecting chapter so it was kind of rushed since had to cover many things at once._

_Doing research I just found out that Galadriel and Celeborn are grandparents to Elrohir, Elladan and Arwen. That's pretty funny if considering the fact that the two elves look just around their middle twenties. Hard to believe right?_

_Distance and Travel: It's around 400 miles from Rivendell to Mirkwood. Endurance horses can do around 100 miles in a single day, and elvish horses would be able to do even more, at a push. So it would take around three days on horseback with no pauses. And around seven to eight days from Lothlórien to Rivendell if taking into account the fact that they traveled close to the Anduin instead of in the plains or close to the mountains. _


	18. Meeting the King

_"__Mayhap the Sword-that-was-Broken may still stem the tide – if the hand that wields it has inherited not an heirloom only, but the sinews of the Kings of Men." __― __J.R.R. Tolkien_

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It was evening when the escort arrived. Galion's eyes hesitantly rested on the hooded figure. The elf was shorter than Thranduil more like prince Legolas in his built though a tad less slender. He carried a bow but not enough arrows to suggest it as a main weapon. An elven blade hung from his side, long and of fine craftsmanship. Elven knives hung on his back as well. He was dressed in dark green and greys the cloak a deep brown of a ranger.

The elves parted and the hood was cautiously removed. His hair was short falling barely below the ear. It had an odd texture not a perfect straight as was custom among the elves but not in waves like the human's. His skin was darker, an olive sheen to it. The jaw was more defined and Galion could see some traces of Legolas in his face though more of Thranduil.

A deep set of dark blue eyes caught his silver ones. He was young, too young, it was in his eyes. Though he carried himself with grace and with a steadiness it was easy to catch the slower steps the tension in his limbs begging to collapse under him from the long ride, they had not stopped once it would seem. Only centuries past elves his age learned to first wield blades. Wrote poems and pined for elven maids not knowing what love truly was, singing, dancing, and carefree of the sorrows of the world. The elves eyes had little laughter in them only a sad wariness and a strange hope.

The elf made his way to the dais and kneeled shakily before the King. "Adar?" His voice had an odd accent as if he was unused to speaking in elven or in this dialect. His eyes rested upon the King as he spoke.

"Who are you?"

Galion who stood at the left of the dais released a breath he did not realize he had been holding in. "My lord this is your son." The eyes of the King had less light then they had only this morning. The King rose and glided toward the younger elf lifting his chin with the index finger. Silver-blue met dark blue. The Kings eyes widened fractionally as if in recognition of such a color from a time long past.

"Arrai, my king, I am your son." Arrai whispered shakily as his Adar looked into his eyes. Galion prayed to Valor fervently hoping Thranduil would let his son reach him. But the King turned in a fluid motion the moment gone, broken.

"My son is gone. Taken from me. My wife gifted me with only one." Unseeing eyes wondered listlessly over the kneeling elf as the King resumed his seat upon his throne.

"Lady Ingwe was my mother." The throne room was plunged into an even deeper silence if that were even possible.

"She had no child." The Kings tired voice trailed off his darkened eyes studying Arrai.

"She hid me, on behest of Lord Elrond."

"Who is Elrond?" Galion's eyes widened in horror, this was happening too fast.

"Your friend Adar" These words were spoken more hesitantly confusion evident his face.

"I have no friends," was the hesitant reply. The entire throne room suddenly felt colder. This was not Thranduil. Galion had expected an angered Thranduil, enraged at Elrond's lie regardless of their strong friendship. He had even dared hope this would wake the king from this dream he was walking. But this? The blow hit home. Too close to heart in many elves. Elves who had lost everything but their faith in their King and a better future. If only Glorfindel had come. But he was away a warrior. Even he would not be able to rouse the spirits of the elves. What they needed now was not some prince. They needed their king.

The eyes of the prince were lost searching his own. Galion's broken expression was well concealed but the eyes caught the hesitance. The eyes turned cold on his clear blue ones, accusing.

"Why was I called here Galion? Where is prince Legolas? Where is my brother?"

A sigh escaped Galion's lips as he lowered his head in shame. It was by his order that the messengers bring him simply under the pretext that the King found of his existence. To show weakness, to tell the other elven realms of the state of their king was not even a question. If the orcs somehow found out that it was the prince they had killed. If anyone found out of the Kings state, they, Mirkwood would feel the brunt of the darkness. And only over his dead body would the darkness see a weakness in the armor of the elves.

"Dead my prince." It was as if the entirety of Mirkwood was watching the conversation so packed of elves was the throne room. Elves who feared for their lives, their king. Many were still in shock at what had occurred. The death of their prince was a sudden blow. He had been wounded countless times but always he had recovered throwing himself into battle. To them he was not just Prince Legolas he had been a symbol of hope and endurance.

The calm mask of the prince shattered into one of horror. "Dead?" The features suddenly shifted as he took in the King's state as if seeing him for the first time. "And you told no one?"

"No my prince. The repercussions would be devastating. I hoped with your presence the King would come back to us." To Galion it seemed that the prince had a great many things in response to that statement his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides but he settled for only one realizing that all other questions would only instill uncertainty among the elves at his rule.

"Why have you called me here?" He had realized what was occurring. But it had to become official.

Galion had been a captain before becoming the Kings butler as well only a century ago. That and him being the Kings closest friend gave him a say. Perhaps the only say that mattered. The elves were looking to him for guidance. It was ironic, Galion having the power. He could have proclaimed himself king but he hadn't. Could have done a great many things but…perhaps it was a last mercy of Ilúvatar that the darkness had not whispered in his ear. Galion looked upon the elf. An elf too young and yet thrusted under such a burden, but he was not alone, were Legolas here he would have wanted Mirkwood to stay strong. "King Thranduil is ill. His son is…in the halls of Mandos… It is with a heavy heart that I now crown prince Arrai regent of Mirkwood until the time comes that King Thranduil is whole again."

The hall was plunged into silence. The elves had never seen the youth much less heard of him. And what more though no one pointed it out he was still half Vanyar cursed and turned orc. But Galion knew he was all they had. How would he rule? Was his decision fair? Or had he brought a tyrant unto the throne or Mirkwood? Would it have been better for him to have taken the crown?

The prince rose unsteadily and turned to him the shock and many other emotions flitting in his eyes but not his face grim understanding of elven custom and what he must do.

"I would speak to you before you go…" His eyes flickered to the crowd. His eye caught Galion's as the unsteady words were said.

"Of, of course you are acting regent now my lord."

"Thank…Thank you." The voice faltered forcing a frown on Galion's face. Why Eru? They needed a strong King! Slowly the prince turned and faced the elven warriors.

"I, I am not my brother." The voice evened as he spoke. "I am not my father. And I had never thought of wearing the crown. I know little of Mirkwood and its people but I have heard from Lord Elrond that you are the proudest realm of elves. You bow to no one. You are the fiercest for you have survived without a ring. You have survived of your own strength and hope. I know little of you but I will learn for I too am Sindar. I do not wish to lie and say that the road ahead of us will be unperiled. But the beauty of the moon and stars is that they give light even in the darkest of nights." The voice grew stronger taking the hall with it. Arrai drew his sword pointing it at the ceiling. "I cannot promise that there will be no death no sorrow. But I will stand and fight the any darkness for it is better to be dead then free and a slave corrupted and twisted. Who will stand by me?" Galion's face was inscrutable but he too drew his sword as one with the other elves in silent respect still not willing to admit that this elf not even a quarter of his own age was bringing something he had lost only days earlier, all the elves had lost, when they lost their prince.

The prince sheathed his sword "You may all go." The voice was barely audible and only the utter silence made it echo in the halls. The elves filed out each returning to their task. It was only after the last elf left that Galion released a breath his eyes searching the Kings still distant ones. He would have kept staring but a sudden noise made him rush to the prince's side. He was keeled over on his knees barely able to stand.

"My lord regent! Are you well?" A hand waved away the title. "Just Arrai please." He whispered.

Galion gripped him under the arm. "Were you wounded?" He asked fearfully.

"No just tired." Dark blue eyes met his as he steadied the prince and for the first time he could see how utterly won out he had been. "S..Sorry for the trouble." The wan smile was endearing he had to give it to the prince for trying.

"Ai Valar you are just as bad as prince Legolas." Surprised at himself for how easily he had used the reference he allowed the prince to lean on him as he led him to the prince's chambers trying to ignore the pain that welled up in his heart. To truly accept that the prince had died…Arrai stumbled it seemed the elves had really pushed the ride. Three days on horse was harrowing. But they needed a King. No one wanted that burden in such dark times. It was simple to throw the reigns into the hands of others knowing if they failed it was them and not you who would be blamed. But this time Galion would not fail in his duty to protect the prince.

"That was a good speech." Galion tried to break the silence. Arrai grimaced in a half smile all effort on putting one foot in front of the other. "That was nothing you must have missed out on Lord Glorfindel's eloquent ones they range from a single sentence and can go on for pages."

Galion laughed at the memory evoked. It was hard not to miss the elder elf and it was always a comfort to know that there was someone older around. Someone you could turn to for words of wisdom.

Arriving at the chambers the prince slipped of his boots and riding cloak and weapons and collapsed onto the bed.

Galion not wanting the prince to get lost or feel unwelcomed began listing off his usual drawl as butler, the familiarity of the job giving him some comfort. "The extra sets of clothes are behind the smaller door, you seem to be the same size as prince Legolas but we can make you more clothes if you prefer your own sets. The great hall is a few doors down from the throne room. The doors are huge it's hard to miss and it is used only during celebrations, though recently it has been turned into a war council of sorts…."

"My Prince?" Noticing a lack of curiosity questions or response of any kind he walked over to the bed. The prince was in a deep sleep eyes shut utterly worn out. His face looked strange in sleep. Older from the shadows that fell onto his face.

A bittersweet smile crossed Galion's face and for a moment it was prince Legolas lying on the bed sleeping utterly exhausted from another skirmish. The likeness was remarkable but the illusion dissipated and the elf was Arrai once more. A sigh escaped Galion's lips. It was unfair this comparison he was making. The prince was young, too young for the burden for losing a brother he never knew a fading father he had only just met but he had stood with it all. And spoke though he was tired though he was expecting the welcome of a father but walked out with a welcome of a King which he had not wanted. Perhaps Galion thought he should give him a chance. He closed the door only as well as a seasoned warrior, butler and close friend of the King would. He was not prince Legolas not by a long shot but he fulfilled the hole Galion had not realized had been made when prince Legolas died. "Sleep well my prince."

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_At this point I am literally updating faster than I can type more chapters. Regardless updating every day is rather harrowing. I will try to post daily but I don't know weather I will be able to update as often as every day._

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	19. Of a Hope

_"__Before I knew you, I thought brave was not being afraid. You've taught me that bravery is being terrified and doing it anyway." ― Laurell K. Hamilton_

* * *

It was cold and dark. He had awoken several times but had lost his consciousness just as quickly. His mind was disoriented and he suspected he might have suffered a concussion. He attempted to rise but something held him firmly in place preventing him from moving more than a few inches. Curse it all manacles. He tugged at them but the only result he yielded were sore wrists.

He heard a moan in the corner. It was too dark to make out more than a shape but the shape was slender, elven. Dark hair came just below the shoulder a small portion plaited back in a single thin braid with the rest of it spilling out now somewhat disheveled. "Who is it?" The voice was weak and hoarse but he recognized it immediately as Lhinnor's younger cousin.

"Orestor?"

"My pri- Legolas?" Remembering himself the dark haired elf switched to the princes name. Titles would only cause the prince more harm.

"It's me." Legolas winced. Had he broken a rib?

"Legolas? Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine. Do you know who that is?"

Orestor squinted in the darkness. "It's, it's not Lhinnor!" The elf paled the loss of his kin registering painfully in his heart. "I'm not sure but he is wounded heavily."

"I… I'm sorry." Legolas could not see the grieving elf shrouded in the darkness as he was but he could tell the elf was silently weeping.

"He was brave. He went against the accursed orcs when I fell. He saved my life. I am sorry." There was silence for a long while as Legolas allowed tears of his own to flow for his fallen comrades.

The silence was broken by the elf only a few centuries older than Legolas raised his head from his chest. "The fault was not your own. He is at peace now."

"Orestor?"

"He was to be wed."

"What happen-"

"She died." Orestor cut him off sharply.

"I, I am sorry." Legolas's mournful voice echoed in the spacious cell.

Orestor sighed allowing his head to fall forward to his chest from exhaustion tugging at his own chains which were far looser than those on his fair haired friend. "Things like this happen my prince. The orcs spare no one in their wake."

Fear suddenly clenched in Legolas's heart. "Then why did they take us alive?"

Orestor shook his head weakly. "I don't wish to know."

Hearing movement in the halls Legolas shifted as he attempted to peer through the small window above the cell door. Nothing. "Orestor?"

A sigh escaped Orestor. "What is your wish?"

Legolas grimaced at the response. "Do not sacrifice yourself needlessly for me."

"That is not a choice. Your worth is far more than mine will ever be."

"Orestor! I am begging you!"

"No," A wan smile graced the features of the older elf. "Orestor!"

"I am sorry my prince." The smile widened and Legolas felt two fingers on his neck. No melon nin no! The prince flailed but gave way to the darkness. The prince slumped forward manacles restricting much movement. Orestor frowned as he braced himself for whatever was to come. I am sorry my prince but your life is indeed worth far more than my own.

* * *

He slept like the dead. It was dark, twisted wrong. His whole body felt heavy. Like it wasn't his own. He could feel their stench on the nape of his neck. Their guttural growls as they brought their blades to his flesh. The marks on his shoulder as they carved at him. He could hear blood curdling yells they were his own. It was hot too hot. A knife was brought to his neck. They were screaming, yelling in pleasure as they danced around the bonfire remains of what poor creatures had been subject to their sick entertainment peaked out from the flames white bones and a stench he would never forget. He could understand it suddenly their foul speech as he yelled in their tongue not understanding himself how he had done it or what it was he said only that the blade was pulled away and he was shuddering in relief. Then darkness as they poured their blood, hot fire over his own. He yelled as their blood tore through his veins. Saes someone save me. Elladan, Elrohir! Lord Glorfindel? Ada! Adar could make this right saes! Adar! No more pain. SAES! No!

He started awake gasping for air his whole body drenched in cold sweat tunic plastered to his skin. He was safe, safe, he whimpered but then realizing where he was he forced himself to shudder silently. It was a good few minutes before his body stopped shaking himself having no control over it as the images replayed themselves. He needed out, the walls of his room felt constricting. It was dark. The only light came from the moon pouring through the doors leading onto a balcony. He stumbled out parting the doors and padded onto the balcony entwined with vines covered in white blossoms leaning on it. He sagged against it his hands gripping it tightly silently thanking Valar that no one else was up at this unseemly hour.

He would die then admit his fears admit that they visited him in nightmare. Afraid that even as he fought them he felt sick. Mirkwood was darker. He could sense it. Like a shadow crawling up his spine. Prince, a prince with no kingdom that was all he ever should have been. And now? Now they wanted him to be their king. He had accepted. What else could he have done? The elves had little else left.

What had he gotten himself into? He knew nothing about ruling. Glorfindel and Elrond had taught him much but even he realized that learning and actually doing something were two different things. The elves were ready to accept him, but for how long? He had never been one of them. If anything Galion should have taken the rule. Why they brought him was beyond his reasoning. He wanted to curse himself for the slip. Lady Ingwe's son? The son of the cursed orcs? He hated them but their blood ran in his veins. His dream assailed him once more and felt the urge to wretch but he had had nothing but lembas and thankfully the nutrients had already been absorbed by his body. He clutched at the railing allowing his forehead to rest against the cold surface of the marble willing the images away. Valar he wasn't ready for this.

* * *

When Galion entered the prince's chambers the younger elf was already up and dressed in dark blues and blacks, clothes he did not recognize from prince Legolas's wardrobe so he assumed it was those Arrai had brought with him. He made his way through the door ajar to the balcony. He was paler in the sunlight and appeared as if he had slept little.

"I see you have learned your way around rather quickly, I trust you slept well?" Galion said noting the prince's still moist hair implying a bath.

The prince smiled and motioned at the white flower with thin yellow stalks in there center. "I have never seen this sort before."

Galion chuckled. "It is doubtful you will these are a subspecies of the Everwhite. Though their scent is invigorating they grow toward the sun and not many structures can handle their weight just as surely as the rocks of these halls can. This is a mountain after all."

"I forget we are inside one." Arrai replied wistfully.

"Yes it is hard at first." To one who had lived in Rivendell a palace inside a mountain would be a surprise and the designs of it to appear no different than a forest could easily have one mistaken it for one. "If you may follow me to the council room we have much to discuss."

"Of course Captain."

"Just Galion"

"Captain Galion."

"Captain Galion it is then." He chuckled. Elrond had brought up Thranduil's son well. They passed many staircases and Galion couldn't suppress a chuckle when his younger companion began shooting hesitant glances back trying to take everything in at once while trying to remember which path led where. At length they emerged in the hall which on festive occasions served as the banquet hall. Captain Tauriel and Tulien were standing at attention. With a few lieutenants scattered here and there.

"This is captain Tauriel." Galion introduced the elleth who bowed her head briefly. "I live to serve." Her keen eyes studied the younger prince trying to gauge his influence over the rest of the hall.

"And this is Captain Tulien." The prince's eyes took in the similarities between the two and smiled. "A pleasure to meet you. Tulien gave a curt nod in the direction of the prince as Galion walked to the map.

"Are these all the captains?" Arrai asked frowning at the number.

"Many are out on patrols."

"I see. To business then, how do you suggest we proceed?"

Galion bent over the map relieved at the familiarity of the exchange. It appeared the prince though young had some experience at least. He shifted a few of the pieces in accord to the movement of the various patrols current statuses.

"The orcs have retreated somewhat since our last encounter. It is the Umai who harass us now. The accursed spiders have grown bolder in the past two days. Captain Tauriel has returned with these news just yesterday."

Arria's eyes flickered to Tauriel face impassive as he leaned over the table pondering over the map. "Captain report, leave nothing out."

"I left with a small sortie to the North. There were five when we attacked. Two more joined in at a call. There were three casualties. None survived of the accursed creatures but we were forced to regroup as our numbers were too few and the archers too tired to proceed with another attack."

Galion traced a path on the map with his finger. "I suggest we follow the river's course than head North when we hit the great elder tree."

"That seems to give us the element of surprise."

Galion smiled thinly at the prince's catch. "Yes, that would allow us to surround the nest we wish to eliminate but it could also prove fatal if we do not bide our time."

"Captain Tulien take a score of men and go." There was a pause and at length Arrai looked up at the Captain. Tulien did not move. Emerald eyes narrowed bearing holes through the younger elf. Galion was about to reprimand the elf but Arrai intervened before he could protest.

"Is there a problem Captain?"

Tulien laughed. "How noble of you my King. Sending us warriors to fight while you stay behind in the safety of the palace." The voice was high and mocking.

"Muindor how dare you-"

But she was interrupted by her brother. "How dare I?" He raged. He swung his sword pointing it at the prince. "Are you saying this orc is too command us? You're no better than the whole cursed lot of them you filth!"

"Stop this foolishness!" Galion frowned in disgust relinquish your post Captain. He motioned a demand for Tulien's sword as two elves held him on each side

"No, he is right." Arrai cut in, passive eyes meeting ones full of loathing.

"I will lead the charge. Tulien will be my second."

Shock was evident on the faces of all the lieutenants and many began to protest while others seemed to like the idea. "You are the last of Orpherion's line. If you fall we have no King." Galion interrupted the hall now in uproar.

"Silence!" Arrai slammed a hand sharply on the table plunging the room into stark silence. "If I can't handle a few insects do you think I am fit to rule?"

"And if you die?" Galion yelled. "What then? Are you out of your mind?" The loss of the prince and the King was still too fresh to lose another in such a short time?

"If I die. Which I will not." Hard eyes met Galion's. "If I die you will be regent."

Galion wanted to argue but doing so would only make the prince look like an extension of his own will. Besides he doubted he could convince the younger elf otherwise. If ever he had any doubts of the stubbornness running in Orpherion's linage he had none now.

"May Valar protect you."

"I will return." Hard eyes met his own. And for the first time in many days Galion felt sure of a victory.

* * *

_Read and Review!_


	20. Cursed Child of Ungoliant

_"__Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear." ― Ambrose Redmoon_

* * *

Making a northern turn at the Elder tree the squadron of twelve elves and their two captains alighted from the branches and continued through the foliage on foot.

"Have you ever fought the Umai?" Tulien requested of his companion as they entered a darkened part of the wood, one where the sun seldom penetrated. He had yet to speak after their departure from the palace.

"No but I have fought the orcs. These creatures should be no different." Arrai answered face almost as impassive as only King Thranduil's could be at times. Tulien frowned at the response derisively. "If you have never fought them then I suggest you leave the fighting to those more experienced." He passed Arrai pulling out his bow and stringing it. He could smell the nests as the wind whispered of the stench.

Hand now on his own blade Arrai's eyes narrowed. "What grudge could you bear against me?"

"Not against you against all your kind!" Tulien muttered motioning for a few of the elves to alight.

"Am I to be the object of your loathing for that which I didn't do?" Arrai mused under his breath as he nimbly swung himself onto a tree and crouched in battle readiness sharp blade hidden in the shadows.

One of the archers back's stiffened causing the retort to die on Tulien's lips.

"We are close." The elf that had auburn hair tied back in a single braid and a lieutenants bow motioned to the forest ahead of them.

"We should scatter into groups of three. That would be the best course of action." The elves eyed their prince warily waiting for an approval. Cold glittering eyes slid to Tulien's. "Is this how you usually approach these creatures?"

"Yes." Tulien muttered. Arrai paused as if weighing the strategy then nodded. "Scatter."

The elves broke off into groups of three and alighted from the branches simultaneously.

Arrai cringed inwardly at the sight of the monster. The smell alone had been near unbearable but seeing the creature made the danger all the more real. He tested the webs, they were strong and finely spun though sticky in certain areas which he easily avoided using his heightened elven senses as a guide. He weighed his blade in his hands cursing at the cold sweat now beading at the nape of his neck. If Glorfindel had fought a Balrog how hard could killing an insect be?

A shrieking form sensed his presence and lunged at him from its vantage point. He nimbly slid from a tree and sliced at the creature's legs. Around him he could hear the shrieks of the spiders and the battle cries of the elves. He skirted the pincers and sliced another one cleanly off. The darkness was so intense it was almost suffocating. He reeled at the stench as one of the elves was mauled by a spider. Using the spider's string he propelled himself somewhat surprised at the strength of the material and landed on the spiders back. In a fluid motion he jabbed his sword into the spiders head and pulled out the fair haired elf.

Holding the elf firmly in his arms he assessed the injuries of the fallen elf moaning in pain. "The wound is not deep, but your rib is broken."

The elf whispered his thanks through teeth clenched in pain. He allowed the elf to grip his hand as he quickly wrapped the arm wound with his traveling cloak. It was not well done as he still had much to learn in the arts of healing but it was enough to keep the elf from blood loss until they returned.

A spider seeing his retreat ran at him spraying darkness in its wake. Satisfied that the elf could hold out another attack with a yell he angled his sword and ran at it cutting its feet from its body. Shifting his stance he twisted around and sliced a pincer aimed for his torso and in a fluid motion dissected what was left of the creature in three quick strokes. Behind him he could hear other elves doing battle.

The elf he had saved groaned and he turned in time to throw a knife at the spider about to devour his comrade. Skirting through the shadowed silken strands he sheathed his sword and kneeled by his companion shaking the blanched elf.

"Strength, your bleeding has stopped…." He trailed of as his eyes caught sight of the elves arm now blotched with a black substance. Bringing a drop of the blood closer to his nose he blanched himself. The stingers had venom! The elf shifted as he attempting to get a better angle to inspect the wound. He felt a shadow more then saw it and rolled away in time with the elf clutched in his arms. Behind him another elf, this one with auburn hair shot from a bow.

"Diolla lle." Arrai winced as he thanked the lieutenant having fallen too heavily onto the earth below. The lieutenant responded by shooting down another of the cursed creatures before flitting to the ground below.

"Let me have a look."

Arrai complied allowing the more experienced elf to gauge the situation his own bow out now as they were more effective at such a range. He felled around three spiders notching two new arrows as the lieutenant whispered words of encouragement to the ailing elf. Worried dark blue met a keen grey full of sorrow. The lieutenant shook his head as he undid more of the swathed cloak to assess the extent of the damage.

Face grim Arrai kneeled by the elf his bow though lowered still at the ready. The elf was shaking badly now his forehead covered in a fevered sweat. "How lethal is the sting?"

"He still has time but we must hurry. And we cannot spare any to defend the body."

A hand gripped his sleeve as the fair haired elf struggled to keep his eyes open. "Saes, leave me and go, the sun will set soon." The ailing elves eyes met the understanding ones of the lieutenant who looked toward his prince jaw set. "If we are to save him we must hurry. Once night falls our prowess will be halved by the darkness and the spider's ability to venture farther from their nests."

Arrai clenched his bow in frustration as he shot the spider coming at him. In his anger at his own helplessness he missed badly finishing the creature off with a yell and a stroke from his sword and an arrow from his lieutenant whose eyes had widened in shock at the inconsistency of the shot.

"We should not tarry below the webs overlong, let us regroup and hold this position." The lieutenant suggested as he lifted the elf and alighted upon one of the trees followed by Arrai who readied his sword for more bloody work. "How many of these creatures are their?" He carved a path as they made their way to their platoon.

The lieutenant shook his head as he used the knife in his free arm to cut a huge chunk of a spider's leg off. Arrai doubled back and finished it off with a few strokes of his blade and returned to the lead. Using a bird call that regrouped the elves to his location the lieutenant lowered the ailing elf as Arrai assessed the condition of the elves some still locked in battle as they made their way.

A flash of red hair was seen as Tulien dropped down from one of the branches approaching the trio, traveling cloak obscuring an arm. "You're wounded." That was not a statement the blood itself darkening the cloak. "Merely a scratch." He waved the princes concern lightly eyes narrowing when Arrai did not relent.

"Tulien hold the wounded elf, Lieutenant we shall make a perimeter around the both of them and work our way outwards." The lieutenant nodded and with a few more birdcalls had the elves taking position.

"I can still fight!" Tulien hissed as the elf changed hands causing Tulien to kneel. "If you could you would not have crumpled at the weight." Arrai chided as he sliced a torso of a spider in twain, one who had thought it had ambushed them no doubt. Tulien clenched his teeth at the response and would have said more but there were screeches as more spiders fell from the trees above. The elves held the position and leveled out another wave of the spiders.

"We must fall back! There are too many!" One of the elves yelled.

"We can still fight we have lost none." Tulien retorted as through a knife saving a dark haired elf from a spider ready to tear out his back. Arrai sliced at a web causing a spider to hit the ground. Swinging around he chopped three legs off another and landed next to the lieutenant. A sudden darkness clenched at Arrai's heart as his mind reeled, dizzy at the sudden shift. The lieutenant's face paled and many of the elves froze in their spots.

The lieutenant seeing the confusion on his prince's face lifted a finger to the sky. "Do you hear it?" Arrai strained his ears and caught a low buzzing sound. "Wha-"

"That is the sound of a thousand terrible things coming this way." He could feel the darkness in his blood now. It was sickening. Memories clouded his eyes as he shuddered.

The auburn haired elf nodded grimly. "Shelob, the dark child of Ungoliant returns, centuries has she been gone and terrible was her return. She has returned once more it seems, with the intensifying of the darkness"

"Then let us retreat!" His voice sounded too frantic to even his own ears.

But the lieutenant shook his head face a mask of intense hate and fear. "That is not possible now." The spiders suddenly began to scatter. The elves pressed to the woods some lashing out at the retreating retches while others held their cloaks to their noses as if to physically bar access to their sense of smell.

He cringed at whatever it was that made its way to them now. It was bigger than he had initially sensed it. From the trees above and from the sides huge spiders began pouring in. These creatures were twice the size of their brethren and their shrieks twice as hideous to the ear.

Fear. He had felt it so acutely only several times not counting the reruns of them in his twisted dreams. And he felt that another would be added to his restless nights. A massacre so heinous he would lack proper sleep for days if he survived that was. The elves began backing away as the spiders slowly inched toward the circle of fourteen the two wounded in the center surrounded by the warriors. This was all his fault. If he hadn't ordered their regrouping if he had only listened and not have let his stubbornness get in the way he would have been at the palace and the elves under better leadership.

The fear was so intense he wanted to retch, but he could not, not know not when he had to be strong, not when the elves were watching his every move. He weighed his blade in his hands. It was a good blade. Gifted to him by Lord Glorfindel, a blade forged by the elder elf himself, one fit for a far worthier wielder than he. He took a step back only to see that he was now shoulder to shoulder with the dark haired elf Tulien had saved earlier. The elves had their weapons ready. Several with blades like him and others with bows their arrows notched.

The creatures suddenly stopped their advance and at a strange set of hideous noises parted for a spider so large and reeking of such darkness he could almost feel the wretched breath of the cursed orcs on his neck once more. The darkness brought up memories he had suppressed. Once he prayed would never resurface but did every so often in the darkness of the night in his dreams. Glorfindel had been there to drag him out of the abyss. He shook his hand as he noticed the tensed reactions of the other elves. Like him they too had suffered. They were looking to him as he had looked to Glorfindel. It was a strange sensation. He was younger so why were they all looking to him?

He grimaced as he shifted his stance. Whatever the case the overgrown abomination was approaching, he would have to fight it. How could he rule if he allowed others to face it? As if biding her time each step was slow and deliberate. It was as if she enjoyed the chase just as much as the devouring of her victims.

"On my mark." He whispered so low only elven ears could catch it. "We will fight, or we will die but we will do it gloriously. If you are to be fodder you will be the hardest piece of meat this accursed being has ever had to catch."

The elves nodded solemnly. Several cracking smiles at the joke. "Now!" With a yell he rolled in the direction of the spider Queen. She shrieked and the spiders attacked as one overrunning the elves with their sheer number. He rolled away cringing at the darkness as the Queen used her two front feet as spears trying to run him through. He hacked at the leg but she was either smarter or more experienced than her weaker cousins and moved from his grasp using her two front pincers nearly penetrating his abdomen. He rolled away attempting to find a weakness. But she beat him to it. Somehow even with his elven speed she was anticipating his movements. He shifted ducking low nearly choking on another whiff of the darkness. It was suffocating.

"Move aside! The sun is setting!" An elf yelled. True to his word as the sun set at an angle it penetrated the foliage bathing the entire webbed Kingdom in majestic hues causing the silken strands to glow and sparkle in ethereal lights. The spiders scrambled from the light giving the elves a short respite.

The spider queen screeched in anger at the prolonged battle and the sun, the only cursed light she feared for like her mother she could no devour it. So great was her anger that she tore through one of her own kin who stood in the way. Tearing through the webs she followed the fleeing elf. More of her own kind. She tore these out of the way as well. Where was he running? He would not escape her. This little morsel was slightly brighter than the rest and was proving too much of a challenge. How dare he? How dare this little elf avoid her so? With a yell she lunged after him tearing through any in her way as she followed her victim.

He ran, like his life depended on it for it did. The accursed creature cared not for its kind. He understood little of the battles of his comrades save that they were being overwhelmed and he might as well make good use of the chase. He nearly keeled over at the last sound. The darkness was around him he could see little other than a thin beam of the moon. She was getting clumsier. Without webs it would be harder for her to anticipate his movements. NOW! He turned suddenly using his speed and height to advantage he bore down on her and sliced at her eyes. She shrieked grabbing at him with her two front feet. He shuddered as he fell with her and in a fluid motion cut at it her eyes. His blade sinking deeply and spraying him in the darkness. She yelled in agony as he laughed at the darkness. "Garn Agh Naghhan Raphnayan!" She shrieked at the darkness of words he himself could not understand. They were falling, falling into darkness. His sword burned. Release? No it was a gift. Release it! NO he was LIGHT! His vision cleared and he used a silk thread to throw himself onto the web instantly collapsing onto his knees.

His head hurt, he was shaking badly retching something. Blood? Was it? His eyes blearily focused on the fluid. He could hear a light laugh in the background laced with giddiness for surviving. "Looks like our King has a weak stomach." A voice grudgingly stated.

"He saved your life." The voice was his Lieutenants. His head throbbed less and he could make out some voices. He stumbled as someone braced his shoulder.

"How are you feeling?" The blood in his head was still pounding after a minute of gathering himself everything focused and though still shaking like a youngling he could at least put one foot in front of the other. "Better." He whispered.

The older elf did not look convinced but he said nothing as they made their way home. "What happened? How, how many did we lose?"

He attempted to look around but that only brought about another wave of sickness. The Lieutenant gripped his elbow steadying him eyes alight with both joy and pain. "I am not sure." The elf pursed his lips frowning. "We lost three good archers, the spiders scattered when you spoke. What did you say?"

Tulien only paces behind him carrying a different elf than the one entrusted to him snorted. "Must have told them to go cower in their holes or something."

"Very funny." Arrai muttered. Those were his last words before he completely passed out.

* * *

_Note: Phew, this took hours! I wanted to make it longer but it was either this or wait another day. Enjoy and Review! It will motivate me a lot:) _

_Diolla lle.- Thank you_

Shelob- _Her head was cris-crossed with scars, and she had a number of missing eyes. Hence I figured why not let the scars be from an elven blade?_


	21. Astaldar

_"__When a brave man takes a stand, the spines of others are often stiffened." ― Billy Graham_

* * *

It was still dark when he regained his consciousness somewhere in the forest. "Easy there."

He pulled himself up into a sitting position and leaned against a trunk of large tree its roots wide and strong. Looking around he realized that the elves had set up camp. Two archers were perched on trees as guards while the rest either ate or rested from the battle.

"How do you feel?"

"I've had worse." He whispered throat parched from lack of water. The lieutenant handed him a flask head cocked to the side.

"How did you do it?"

A confused look flitted over Arrai's face. "I don't understand…"

"Shelob," he flinched involuntarily at the name. "How did you defeat her? Three years she has terrorized our wood. We saw you, you were nearly one with the darkness. How did you fight it?"

Arrai shook his head. "I, I don't know." He accepted the wrapped ration and fumbled with it his lieutenant's eyes still scrutinizing him.

"Perhaps it was my Vanyar blood…" He said at length. His cursed blood, it seemed that perhaps it had its uses.

"Perhaps, one thing is certain my prince you saved us all."

"If I hadn't ordered the regrouping we would have never entered into such a mess." The prince's hair was still matted in black and red blood. Face haggard from the ordeal dark blue eyes sparkled in the darkness full of pain.

The Lieutenant shook his head allowing his hand to rest on the elf shrouded by the night's darkness. "No you have saved us all. If we had not regrouped when we did, we would have been overrun and sent to the halls of Mandos. A single elf is strong but only with many can you fight the darkness."

The prince frowned but accepted the response leaning his head back to rest against the tree.

It was hard for Lysanthir to believe that this elf was barely older than a century. The difficulty lay in his courage his inane disregard for self-preservation. His battle prowess made the most convincing argument of all. To take on the Queen of darkness never before having faced her kind and emerging the victor, such a feat was no feat for a mere youngling just barely past the elven adulthood mark.

What has struck him the most however was his own reaction. There were things even he feared, the loss of his own life being among them. He had not look toward himself nor toward captain Tulien for orders but from the elf. The elf who looked like he could move mountains in the instant that the danger became apparent. So like his older brother. It was his stance his demeanor his battle readiness. And for a moment he felt like he was standing side by side with Legolas once more.

It was an hour into the prince's sleep when Lysanthir heard moaning. Upon feeling the younger elves forehead he felt the fever that he had been expecting. He ordered the patrol to rise. This would be a long night.

* * *

It was light and warm no traces of the cursed darkness. He could hear the tinkling of water and the fresh smell of athelas. He sighed in relief. He was safe in Lothlórien, Glorfindel would be coming in through the door any moment now half raging at his near death encounter and lack of self-preservation half laughing and crying at his recovery.

He could feel pressure on his hand. "Ada?"

He could hear a chuckle. "King Thranduil still walks the realms of the lost but with your presence perhaps he shall recover. Your actions caused quite a stir no doubt Lord Glorfindel has taught you to be far more than an excelled orator."

Forcing his eyes open he could see the fair haired elf peering down at him with blue grey eyes. "Captain Galion?" he struggled to get up but the Captain held him in place as his encounter assailed him pain wracked through his body. "Astaldar!" He could hear footsteps light as they were but rapid and with purpose. The door was flung open and an elf with a face as kind as it was ancient peered at him critically holding him down as his body shuddered.

Dark green eyes studied him. "Here young one, swallow this." It tasted far better than the things Elrond cooked up but he could also sense it was weaker. It helped regardless as he was actually able to swallow all of it without gagging.

"What, where-"

"Easy young one," the elder elf waved Galion away as he settled on a chair next to Arrai's bed. The elves hair was tied back into a braid reaching to his knees. It was so light it appeared white in the moonlight flowing in from the wide windows opening into the gardens. An odd elven ruin hung from his ear, ᶚ, an elven letter was it? The elder elf did not seem to mind the scrutiny and instead rose and busied himself with breaking another herb into the bowl and then feeling his patients forehead.

"You are in the Mirkwood halls of healing." His voice had an odd accent to it. One he did not hear in most elves. The confusion must have been evident on his face for the elf chuckled lightly and then placed another wet clothe on his forehead. It felt good though it was strange for he had not felt any heat in his body.

"How many days was I out?"

"Only one."

"Why am I here?"

"The black breathe young one." The elder elves eyes narrowed as they looked into his eyes. "Do you know with whom it was you were fighting?"

Arrai closed his eyes in pain though he did not remember being wounded. "Fighting? It seemed like a one sided engagement to me what with my role mostly being a midafternoon meal." The words came out in a near whisper; he himself was surprised at his weakened state.

The healer laughed. "By Ilúvatar and here I was worried you'd be another Thranduil!" The laughter subsided as another wave of pain overcame him. Worried eyes met his own as the healer made him drink another floral concoction. "The being you fought was the spawn of Ungoliant. A creature who nearly killed Morgoth himself. It is a miracle that you are even awake now, let alone alive."

He closed his eyes as he remembered the last few moments of the battle. He had not killed her! "Glorfindel could have done it and finished the job." He struggled to rise but the healer held him down.

"I don't know who has been putting such thoughts of your lack of self-worth but what you have done even he might have been able to do it. Let alone on his first try. Have you ever even fought the creatures before?"

There was a prolonged pensive pause. "No." The healer nodded guessing as much. "Listen young one I don't know what my good friend has been teaching you but I can assure you that if he was planning on another living legend he has made one."

"You knew Lord Glorfindel?" The incredulity on the prince's face was almost too much. Astaldar grinned wickedly, not letting any of it show of course, ah the tales he could tell, he'd have to be careful though or Glorfindel would have his head..

"Oh yes, who do you think had to put him to gather after his near death encounters? Elrond wasn't around when the Balrog tore his body nearly into shreds."

"So those scars…?"

The thin smile graced the healer's lips. "Oh yes every stitch. Though they must be very faint by now my prince."

Arrai cringed at the title but relented. "I suppose now none will have qualms about my ruler ship…" The healer's eyes narrowed at the depth of the assessment. "Yes well quite a number of your friends have been wanted to see you should I let them in?"

The serene façade of the elf unnerved him but he shook his head. "I suppose I'll need to speak with Captain Galion about Kingly duties and all."

Astaldar opened the door and allowed Galion in and let himself out. "You don't do anything by halves do you?"

Arrai sighed as he struggled to sit but at length relented realizing that he had the strength to sit up but not enough strength to actually keep sitting. "The spider may think otherwise." Galion chuckled but his smile did not reach his eyes and at length he frowned peering at the younger elf with worried eyes. "You are insane you know that?"

"I do not think-"

"NO! YOU DO NOT THINK! What if you had died? What if you had not returned?"

Arrai's eyes flashed dangerously at the livid tone of his Captain. "I am sorry for wishing to protect the realm but I have returned safely Captain Galion…" His voice cut through the air like ice forcing the captain to take another look at the prince.

"When I heard what happened…I thought you would die! Do you know how many succumb to the darkness? If you would have died… King Thranduil would have surely faded!"

Arrai's face softened at the mention of his father all traces gone of his cold features no doubt inherited from his father as he had seen Thranduil wear such faces too often to count. Thranduil had save his life countless times. One son? Could he not even protect one of his friend's sons? What kind of captain was he?

"And I have returned." He whispered. "And I can assure you I will not be leaving for quite a while." The wan smile was endearing he had to give the prince credit for that.

"So what do I do as King?"

"Impatient are we? Truth be told I shall take care of the paperwork. You go enjoy your well-earned glory."

Arrai grimaced. "Then why do you need me here? Why even bother? You could rule in my father's stead."

Galion studied him his eyes inscrutable but his face troubled. "The loss of the prince was not just a loss of one elf. But a loss of an icon, how would you feel if that which was considered to you immortal suddenly died?

Arrai shuddered. An image of Glorfindel struck down on an unknown battlefield covered in blood. He felt a wave of pain wrack his body. "I am sorry I did not mean-"

"No its fine I am merely tired." Arrai's eyes fluttered struggling against the sleep but it seemed Astaldar had experience in dealing with patients who tended to escape the healing ward. The young one lost the battle to whatever herb was insidiously added to his drink and sleep took him. Galion looked down in pity at the younger elf. Barely fully grown and already facing such forces of darkness? Was Valar preparing him to fight something far greater? He hoped not. There was enough darkness in the world, enough pain.

It was hard to imagine that this young elf fought Shelob the greatest darkness that had entered Mirkwood. But he had. And Galion had seen the King in him with his own eyes, in the throne room he was one other's would follow. One he would follow. But could he reach Thranduil? That was a different matter entirely.

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Note: For those of you waiting for Legola's stuff don't worry, I'm getting there!

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_Side Note: Yes according to legend Glorfindel was allowed to come back etc etc by the gods and all but that's a bit farfetched in that he's the living proof that the gods still care about those living in middle earth, as they gave them their champion back, so another way to survive a near death encounter is to…hint hint….that's right! Have a good healer! Those of you who prefer the cannon just bear with it I mean even if he did return someone would have to help him heal and stuff. Also Astaldar is an amazing healer but he doesn't have Elrond's ring so he can in fact do crazy stuff because of his age but Elrond is the most renowned/best of the healers while Astaldar prefers to stay quietly in Mirkwood. _


	22. Captivity

_"__No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path." _

_― __Gautama Buddha_

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Legolas was awakened from his faint by a cold armored hand and the smell of death so intense it took all his elven training to not hurl where he stood.

"Awake now are we?" the face inched closer to his own. A fathomless darkness radiating such intense fear Legolas could not restrain the involuntary shuddering of his body.

"What do you want creature of darkness." He snarled.

The hideous being ignored his comment and lifted his face up. Legolas attempted to break free of his grip all in vain.

"Interesting, you have quite the fight in you." The voice hissed causing Legolas to smile cruelly back. "More than your wretched kind could ever hope to possess. He spat at the face of the monster for good measure only to have the viselike grip strengthen and puncture the flesh of his cheek.

The being laughed louder as he smeared a black like substance over the punctured flesh. Legolas grimaced as the heaviness entered his bloodstream and struggled against the hold. His eyes widened in horror as he noticed Orestor's body lying flaccidly on the floor drenched in his own blood. "Monster, what have you done to him?" He hissed at the creature that now busied itself at a low table littered with all sorts of flasks he could barely make out in the darkness.

He struggled against the bonds but the creature paid him no heed. It seemed more interested in its vials than in him at the moment to his great relief. His first course of action would be to escape but it was near impossible to breathe with the heavy darkness let alone think. Every moment in the room with the creature was excruciating agony. Did the creature not feel his light? Was it unaffected? He was no elder elf but his presence should have counted for something. He clenched his teeth as the creature turned back to face him. He glared at it refusing to show weakness.

The creature laughed at his scowl. He struggled as it pried his mouth open and spilled hot fire down his throat. He was forced to swallow but he spat what was left in his mouth back at the creature which ignored his friendly gesture and dragged its claws down his arm. He bit his lip in vain for moments later blood curdling yells resounded in the cell as the darkness left pleased with its work.

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It was midmorning when he awoke once more feeling so utterly spent he closed his eyes and fell into sleep once more. It was evening when he awoke. The red rays of the sun bathed the garden in majestic hues. He rose slipping on the freshly pressed tunics left on his bed and made his way outside.

He paused at the door breathing in the heavy scent of jaded flowers in the air. The wind caressed his face pleasantly as he stepped onto the grass outside. The garden in Mirkwood was a wonder to behold. Brilliant flowers carpeted the ground knee high in some areas. A small stream ran across the garden falling like a small waterfall as it cascaded throughout the gardens. A figure sat at on a bench nearly obscured by the canopy in the canter of the gardens. More from boredom then curiosity he made his way to the elf. Surprise flitted over his features as he beheld the trespasser. "Adar?"

Listless eyes met his own as King Thranduil fiddled with another flower adding it to a crown he seemed to be focused on weaving. A similar image assailed him. One he had long since forgotten lost in the waves of time. Another place, another elf, his mother, with a face he could only vaguely remember. Her and her lifeless hands as she faded.

The King seemed to notice the intrusion. His eyes sharpened before dulling. With a sigh he dissolved the memory and leaned on the supporting column of the canopy facing his father. No words were said as father and son watch the red sunset which plunged the world into darkness at its departure. What should he say? What could he say? Would anything he say matter? His hair was longer and his face paler but for the most part his father was as he remembered in the portrait which had hung in his rooms. Regal and full of majesty and honor save the thin smile which had graced the portrait. When seeing King Thranduil in person it was hard to believe that the elf could smile. An air of distinct pain and sorrow hung about him palpable in the air. The trees in the garden seemed to all whisper of the sadness.

He had dreamed of this moment. Just him and his father. But he had never pictured any words between them. He had not known what to say at the time either. What could he say? By the way your highness I happen to be your son? Who was he fooling he could never replace his brother. He didn't want to replace his brother. Why Valar? He had prayed to one day finally be able to see his father but not like this. But if there was a chance he could bring King Thranduil back he had to try.

"Adar? Will you not speak to your son?"

The King's eyes flashed at the word son but then dulled once more. "Why do you torment me elf? My son died, felled by the orcs. Leave me in peace"

"And yet you do not deny that I am your son."

The King did not answer as he wove another rose into the garland his nimble hands wove.

"You do not believe me? Or you do not wish to believe me?" The King's eyes were distant now focused on the moon. "It is beautiful tonight is it not?"

"Adar?" the sudden shift staggered the younger elf. But the King continued as if he had not heard him. "A shame Legolas isn't here, but he must rest after his battle.

"Rest?" Arrai asked fearfully. "Adar, prince Legolas is dead!"

"Dead? I saw him moments ago." King Thranduil hummed. Arrai paled. "Adar please." King Thranduil frowned. "Why do you insist on calling me Adar? I do not remember having more than one son."

Arrai didn't know whether it was impulse or whether it was because seeing his father in such a state had broken something inside him but he flung himself onto his knees grasping at Thranduil's own. "Please you have to come back! Mirkwood needs you!" Confused silver blue met saddened dark blue. "The gods have abandoned me… Mirkwood is lost Ingwe… Ironic isn't it? Perhaps we were meant to be together… Two rulers of fallen realms."

Arrai shook King Thranduil but the King seemed to ignore the gesture and simply stared into Arrai's eyes. Eyes that now left trails of tears on the younger elves face. But seeing no other response from the King he fled to his chambers. How long did his father have left? Was it even possible to bring him back? Legolas what would he have done? Such thought plagued the mind of the younger prince as he went to the war chamber to meet with Galion.

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_Note: Yep King thranduil is fading quite a bit. _

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